


Beneath The Red Clay Of Georgia

by mvernet



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: BAMF Jim, Blair's father, Bunker Thirteen, Drugged Blair, First Kiss, Government Agencies, Government Conspiracy, Hurt/Comfort, In Memory of Aretha Franklin, Injured Blair, M/M, Multi-Songfic, Naomi's Past, Prompt R&B, Sentinel Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:16:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvernet/pseuds/mvernet





	1. Midnight Train To Georgia

He's leaving

On that midnight train to Georgia

Said he's going back to find

A simpler place and time 

I'm gonna be with him

On that midnight train to Georgia

I'd rather live in his world

Than live without him in mine

~~0~~

Los Angeles, Fall of 1968

“You filthy hippie! Get out of my face!” The pissed off man in a bad suit, grabbed the protester by her long red hair and shoved her to the pavement. Naomi Sandburg wasn’t going to stand for that sort of treatment from a man who manufactured a product that kept the industrial military complex well lubed and running smoothly.

Doctor Blair Burton heard a woman’s voice yelling from half a block away, the voice was like a sweet balm to his soul. He adjusted his glasses and focused in on a small group of protestors holding placards that condemned local businessman, Max Markem, as a detestable war monger.

A fiery redhead was being helped up off the ground by a blond boy who would look more at home on a surfboard than a protest line. “How dare you touch me you murderer! Your products make a direct input as to how many innocent people our nation kills everyday.”

“Give me a break, you wacko freak. I sell gun oil to the Army. I’ve sold it to a lot of people. Markem Gun Oil’s been around since 1885. Your grandpappy probably kept his family fed using my product to clean his gun. You kids burn my ass, calling me names. I should turn you over my knee you no account, hippie brat!” The suit reached for Naomi but his arm was held fast by a gloved hand.

“Mr. Markem, I’m sorry to break up your public relations meeting, but if you lay hands on this little lady again, I’m afraid I’m gonna haveta interfere on the grounds that my Granddaddy would say I was no gentleman if I didn’t.”

The Suit and Naomi looked the man up and down. He was short, slight and stocky, obviously a bookworm, because of the tortoise shell glasses perched on his nose and shopping bag in his hand form Bing’s used book store. He had slightly overgrown, unruly, brown hair, hugging his head like a garden of curls. The southern drawl was as out of place as his leather gloves on this warm, smoggy, fall day in L.A. But by far the most beguiling feature of the man was his blue eyes that sparkled with humor as he spoke.

The little surfer boy called out, “The fuzz!” The protestors fled the scene, but Naomi stood tall and held her ground. “Go ahead! Sic the pigs on me. I’ve done nothing but exercised my rights!”

She turned to Burton and snarled, “I can handle myself, professor. I don’t need your help.”

He chuckled, “I can see that. But maybe you don’t want to end up in jail today? My name is Doctor Blair Burton originally from Lake Burton, Georgia. Can I interest you in a cuppa coffee instead?”

Markem rolled his eyes and groaned, but Burton’s melodious tone seemed to have settled his temper. “Damn, hippies! Go on. Get out of here. I’ll tell the police it was a peaceful protest, no harm done. Just… just go bother some other poor schmuck next time. Hey, my competitor is on the corner of Ocean and First. Now, he’s a real bastard. Pete’s Army/Navy.”

Naomi smiled despite herself. She offered her hand to Burton. He shook it gently in his own gloved one. They both gasped slightly at the spark of connection between them. Naomi could sense he was a good man, intelligent, kind, but with an intriguing secret life. She gathered her wits and found her voice. “I’m Naomi Sandburg. I sense the universe wants me to let this go. I don’t usually drink coffee with strange men, but I do like to keep an open mind and go with the flow.”

Burton winked and held out his arm for Naomi to take. “Well, let’s get flowin’!”

The diner they picked was comfortably dated with sparkly formica tables and booths whose cushions were held together with good humour and duct tape. But the coffee was good and plentiful and each booth had its own jukebox. They both ordered a grilled cheese sandwich, thinking it was the safest thing on the menu. The doctor offered Naomi a dime for a song. She smiled and began turning the dial to flip through selections. Aretha Franklin’s, Natural Woman started to play. She looked at the man across from her waiting for a reaction. “My, bless my soul. Aretha. What an artist.” Naomi raised an eyebrow, “You into R&B, professor?”

He drank some coffee, knowing she was baiting him. “I like a strong voice. One that makes me… shiver when they hit a high note and quiver when they sing so low you’d think they were prayin’ in church. Aretha’s like that. You have a beautiful voice, Naomi. Like to hear you sing someday.”

She frowned. Blair Burton was an enticing puzzle. She tuned into his aura and was surprised to find it a bright gold in the center, but surrounded by a fiery haze. She’d never encountered that before. She imagined her Shaman saying he was an old soul. Burton’s gentle country ways were doing something to her heart. “Tell me about yourself, Doctor.”

He shrugged and looked out the window. Not much to tell about me. I’m not a medical doctor. I have a PHD in physics. My Momma and Daddy were both in the Air Force, they both passed four years ago now. Killed in the war. I’m travelin’ with my Granddaddy. He’s the one who really raised me. He’s an Anthropologist and dean of a school for special needs students in Georgia. He had some potential students to meet here on the west coast. We were in Washington State last week. Beautiful country. I wouldn’t mind livin’ in those Cascade Mountains someday. My Great Granddaddy was the explorer, Richard Burton, not related to the actor. He came over from England in 1888 and settled the town of Burton, Georgia. Tragically the town of Burton and the original Burton home and school were destroyed in 1919 when the Lake Burton dam was let go.

Naomi pulled back, suddenly wary. Burton frowned, voicing a suspicion. “I… I noticed you were scannin’ me, Miss Naomi. Can you hear my heart beatin’?”

“Of course not, and if that was a line. It’s the worst I’ve ever heard. I was reading your aura, Doctor. It’s an interesting color. I think there may be more to you than meets the eye.”

“I hope that is true, or else how could I keep the attention of an attractive woman like you?”

“You believe in auras?”

“Not a matter if I believe. I believe you can see them. My Great Granddaddy said, All Faith is false, all Faith is true: Truth is the shattered mirror strown In myriad bits; while each believes His little bit the whole to own.I don’t dismiss someone’s belief, just because I may be too ignorant to understand it.”

For some reason, Naomi trusted the man before her. “I do see auras. I’m sensitive to vibrations and disturbances in the air. I can feel negative and positive emotions. The emotions itch at my skin. I’ve learned to tell when people are lying, when they are angry, when they are hiding something. Whether they are turned on or turned off by me. I don’t like to be around negative people or crowds. Sometimes it becomes too much and I have to run away.”

Burton nodded. “You wouldn’t think it to look at me, Miss Naomi, but I am the rebel in my family. Gave my Granddaddy a heck of a time. My parents were never there for me, always puttin’ duty first. I’m proud of them now that I’m a grown man. But it was hard growin’ up like that. I inherited the brains, but not the wanderlust. I like physics and math. I like things I can hold on to and explain.”

Naomi reached across the table and gently stroked Burton’s right hand. “I sense something unusual about you. Why do you wear gloves?”

Burton’s eyes opened wide. He wasn’t a very social soul, and to him women were an alien complex living machine with no manual available to give you the facts on how to operate and maintain them. But this pretty hippie girl was breaking down his carefully constructed walls. He felt a strange power surging through his body. 

He came from a family of guides, yet refused to search for a Sentinel to devote himself to. Burton didn’t want to be enslaved to a heightened sense egotist who would never appreciate the bond. He watched from the sidelines as his parents were taken from him and sent all over the world. He watched his Granddaddy mourn the loss of his Sentinel for all of his own twenty-six years. If not for his Granddaddy’s devotion to his Sentinel students he would not have survived. Blair Burton didn’t hold much stock in his heritage. He felt the Sentinel/Guide mystique was overrated. He had been surrounded by heightened senses and empathic connections his whole life, yet no one had ever sensed how utterly lonely he was.

He took off his gloves and Naomi made a small sad noise of empathy, but not pity. Burton’s hands were badly burned, the scar tissue an ugly red and shiny silver. Burton was surprised when she took his damaged hands and held them in her delicate ones. It gave him the courage to bear his soul. “I told you I was a physicist, well, I’m a nuclear physicist. I work as a civilian consultant for the Air Force near Fort Gordon, Georgia. I was involved in a bad accident with a nuclear reactor.”

Naomi blinked owlishly as Burton’s aura flashed before her. “Oh, no. You… you are dying aren’t you?”

Burton was taken aback and tried to pull his hand away, but Naomi held on tighter. “Yes, Miss Naomi. I… I don’t really know how long I have left. No one knows for sure.” 

“Blair, I’m so sorry. I can be so blunt sometimes, but only with those I trust… and like.” She admired the bright smile that flashed across Burton’s face. He was a very handsome man. Her pleasant thoughts were invaded by a niggling one. “Wait. Fort Gordon? I’ve heard there is a secret underground facility there. People have been complaining about deforestation of the trees and fish kills. It must be true! You work for them?”

Burton hated the sudden coldness in her voice. “I was told we were working on finding ways to harness nuclear energy for the benefit of mankind. Uses in medicine, technology, as an energy source. The list of applications is endless. They took some of my findings and started using them irresponsibly in weapons research. I shut down a contamination leak those Air Force neanderthals caused and got exposed to the radiation from the leak. It would have been a disaster, Naomi. My Granddaddy is goin’ back to Georgia in a few days, I haven’t told him. Haven’t told anyone but you. I… I have to decide whether to go back, gather my facts and play whistleblower to the Senate. Whether to go back to monitor those fools and try to get the facility shut down or just go off someplace like those enticing mountains north of here and die in peace.”

If Burton could see Naomi’s aura he would have seen the bright orange and red swirls that meant Naomi Sandburg was falling in love. “Blair, I live nearby. I share a house with some friends, but my bedroom is very private. Would you like to come home with me?”

Blair Burton tilted his head and gave Naomi a blinding grin. “I’d like that, Miss Naomi. I surely would.”

~~~**~~~

Naomi and Burton stood on the platform for the midnight train to Georgia. Burton had settled his Granddaddy in and excused himself. He ran to where Naomi was standing, her hair braided with the flowers he had bought her, her prairie style long dress billowing in the hot air currents from passing trains. Naomi wanted to come with Burton. She told him, “I’d rather live in your world, than live without you in mine.” But Burton had vetoed the idea, he wanted to return to the Cascade Mountains and live out his life with Naomi by his side. He didn’t want her to be exposed to his world of secret Government bases, Sentinels and Guides. He had an appointment with Senator Harris from Georgia next week. If all went well, Burton planned to settle his affairs and would come back to Naomi in just a month. They were in love. Neither of them had ever felt like this before.

Burton opened his arms as Naomi ran towards him. He grabbed her and spun them both around. He gently smoothed her hair and kissed her lips. They never wanted the kiss to end, but like in all those old movies, the warning whistle on the train blew a long and tragic note.

“Naomi. I love you so much. I feel like you are a part of me that was missing. Oh, honeybee, I just don’t have the words.” He kissed her again. Naomi leaned back a little and took his face in her hands. “I love you too. I can stow away, I hate to say goodbye to you.”

“No, honeybee. It’s better this way. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Naomi. I have to go. I’m not saying goodbye. Your love saved my soul and I’ll never really be apart from you ever again ‘cause you are livin’ and breathin’ in my heart.”

“I feel the same, loverman. Just hurry back, Blair. I’m proud of what you are doing, but I want you all to myself as soon as possible.”

“You know I was thinkin’, I told you all about Sentinels and Guides. You’re not quite a Sentinel and I’m a sorry excuse for a Guide, but I sure feel bonded to you.”

“Maybe every couple in love is a Sentinel and a Guide. Loving, protecting, helping each other in times of confusion and doubt. Putting out an arm when danger is near, pulling each other back from the brink. Love is a bond unbreakable. I love you, Blair.”

She refused to cry as Burton let her go and got on the slowly moving train. They loved each other and a month would fly by. She didn’t have a phone, but Burton gave her his home phone number and told her to call collect if she got too lonely.

A month had passed and Naomi was feeling anxious and nauseous. She had sent a handmade card to Blair’s address a week ago with the simple words “Missing You," written on it. She would check the mail and if Blair hadn’t written, she would call him today. She placed a hand on her stomach and rubbed absently at a vague pain. There was a letter in the mailbox from Georgia, and she tore it open. It was from Blair’s Grandfather. Spidery handwriting filled half a page of old fashioned but once elegant stationary, yellowed with age.

My Dear Miss Sandburg,

I am so sorry to have to tell you that Blair has passed.

He was caught in a fire in his lab a week after we arrived back home. 

I’m sorry for the pain this causes you. Blair did mention you to me in the most glowing of terms. He told me he loved you and wanted to ask for your hand. I thought you should know this.

Again, I am sorry I had to be the bearer of this tragic news. I was able to get your address from the letter you sent. I did not open it. Feel free to call me. I loved Blair with all my heart. I’m glad he found his true love before the end.

Sincerely, 

Richard Burton

Naomi crumpled the letter and raised a hand to her mouth as tears began to fall. The nauseousness she had been feeling all day could no longer be denied. She ran to the bathroom and collapsed on the floor. She looked down at her stomach and saw a twinkling blue glow as a small aura made itself known. “Oh, my darling. My one true love. I’m having your baby.”

~~~**~~~

Los Angeles, Spring, 1971

Naomi Sandburg stood on the same platform where she had last seen little Blair’s Daddy. A group of like minded individuals were accompanying her to Washington D.C. to meet with Senator Harris of Georgia. The meeting Blair Burton had never made it to. Naomi and her friends were determined to bring to light the secret nuclear reactor hidden underground in Dawsonville, Georgia and demand the investigation of the murder of Doctor Blair Burton.

In the Spring of 1971, the facility was closed and destroyed. However, Doctor Burton’s case was deemed a tragic accident and never reopened.

Naomi Sandburg became a feared name on the Senate floor. As active as she was in various civil and ecological rights movements, she tried to shield her baby from a world that would only hurt him. She never told him about his heritage and tried to hide the fact that he was born to be a Guide.


	2. Respect

The loft was quiet without the presence of her son and his partner. Partner. Naomi knew Jim was a Sentinel, his aura was unique. She had met people with swirls of multi-colored auras before, but Jim’s had five distinct colors, much like a flag, that fluttered and grew in intensity as he used his powers. If she had any doubt, Blair took them away, because his aura had changed from a brilliant sparkly blue to a burnished gold, like his father, that flickered with white light when Jim was near. 

She had empathy for and genuinely liked Jim the man, who was kept in the dark about his special gifts by his own father. She often wondered if it was Jim Ellison’s family that the Burtons had visited in 1968, bringing the man she loved into her life. But she never let herself forget that Jim could easily ensnare and enslave her similarly gifted son. Bind her precious child to a life of servitude. Blair Burton, her son’s father, her one true love and a guide, had told her his experiences growing up a Guide in a school for Sentinels run by his Grandfather. Burton’s childhood stories weren't pretty. He grew up lonely, bullied and abused. 

Naomi had shielded her boy as best she could from his heritage, but the universe had other ideas. Without him ever knowing it, her Blair had embraced being a Guide from a young age. Naomi almost fainted the day her darling showed her his copy of Richard Burton’s adventures. He held his own Great Great Grandfather’s works in his hand, eyes glistening with excitement. Since then, Naomi was resigned that Blair would always search for his Holy Grail. She new her son was in love with Jim, but luckily Jim’s inflexible, macho cop image was keeping the two from truly bonding. But lately, Blair’s emails had sounded like he was ready to force Jim to take that trip with him. All she could do now was throw an occasional stumbling block in his way.

She looked over at Blair’s computer. She didn’t need to read his thesis to know what it was about. She knew Blair would never hand it in, never get the doctorate or the honors he deserved, never put Jim Ellison in danger by putting him in the limelight. And Jim would never forgive Blair if his secret got out. Jim would end the unbonded partnership and Blair would detach with love. Naomi suddenly knew what she had to do. She reached for the phone to call an old friend, Sid Graham at Berkshire publishing.

~~0~~

The sweet soul sound of Aretha filled the cab of Jim’s truck as he peeled away from the cluster of obnoxious reporters. Just last weekend, Blair and Jim had been playing around with the old eight track tape deck buried in the vintage truck’s dash and managed get it to work. Blair had stopped at a thrift store near Rainier and bought a bulky stack of eight track tapes, R&B oldies but goodies. For twenty five cents each, they were enjoying a soul train full of passengers like Al Green, The Stylistics, Smokey Robinson and the Queen of them all, Aretha Franklin.

~~0~~ 

What you want

Baby, I got

What you need

Do you know I got it?

All I'm askin'

Is for a little respect when you come home 

Hey baby when you get home, mister

~~0~~ 

“Jim, I can explain.”

“Chief, do not say anything right now.”

Both men sat quietly, the emotional tension between them as uncomfortable as the embarrassingly appropriate song blasting from the cab speakers. 

~~0~~

I ain't gonna do you wrong while you're gone

Ain't gonna do you wrong 'cause I don't wanna 

All I'm askin' 

Is for a little respect when you come home

Baby when you get home. Yeah 

~~0~~

Blair couldn’t stand the clenched jawed, white knuckled silence if his Sentinel. He took the plunge.

“Yesterday. Naomi sent a copy of my thesis to a publisher she knows.”

“Told you to shut up, Sandburg.”

Blair ignored him. “She didn’t know what it was about. He wanted her friend Sid to look it over.”

“Sandburg. Do not blame this on your mother for fuck’s sake. You’re a grown man. A man I entrusted with my secret. Why don’t you start acting like one and take the responsibility for your actions.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

~~0~~

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Find out what it means to me

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

Take care, TCB

~~0~~

“That’s a crock and you know it. It’s low even for you, to use your own mother as a scapegoat.”

~~0~~

Oh sock it to me, sock it to me,

sock it to me, sock it to me

A little respect sock it to me, sock it to me,

~~0~~

“Jim, I would never knowingly put you in danger by revealing your abilities. How can you not know this?”

~~0~~

I get tired Keep on tryin' 

You're runnin' out of foolin' 

And I ain't lyin' 

re, re, re, re 'spect

When you come home 

Or you might walk in 

And find out I'm gone

~~0~~ 

Blair was flung sideways when Jim suddenly pulled into a parking space by the docks. He slammed the truck into park, making the chassis and Blair’s aching head rock back and forth. He turned off the engine, shutting down Aretha’s backup singers in his rage. Jim jumped out, closing his door with a loud metallic clunk.

Blair swallowed his anger and pride and trotted after Jim who wasn’t even trying to his reel in his long strides for Blair’s sake. Blair caught up with him and tried to explain, hoping they could come up with a plan for stopping the inevitable media circus together. After a few minutes of painful accusations, Jim stopped in his tracks and faced Blair head on.

“Chief, you got a great opportunity here. It's a once-in-a-lifetime play. Go for the brass ring. Good luck, huh?” He patted Blair’s cheeks and with a condescending smirk, walked away.

Blair was pale and cold with shock, but fury started to warm his blood. He ran after Jim, grabbed his arm and spun him around.

“How dare you! How dare you dismiss me like that! You know that song we were just listening to? Respect? Did you ever think of those words in regards to me? I have. You have never shown me the least bit of respect for my accomplishments, my career, my research. Where would you be without me, huh? Not to mention the fact that you are my best friend. I love you, Jim. I… really love you. I would never hurt you.”

Jim pulled himself up to his full height, placed his hands on Blair’s shoulders, lowered his head to look him in the eyes. “I always knew you were a danger to me. I’ve never let myself love you, Blair. I knew it would end like this. I’m grateful for the help you gave me, enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame and fortune. You deserve it.”

~~0~~

Jim almost zoned on the pixels he could see on the TV screen that made up the image of Blair Sandburg. Blair’s voice was hypnotic as always, but the tight repressed, sobs he could hear in Blair’s throat tore at his heart. Blair was committing academic suicide right before his eyes. Falling on a sword of his own making in order to give Jim a chance at a normal life. A normal life without his Guide, his partner and his dearest friend.

Part of Jim wanted to run to Blair grab a microphone and tell the world what this wonderful, brilliant man had not only found a Sentinel, but saved his life so many times and in so many ways he had lost count. But fear held him in place. Fear held back the words he wanted to say to the man he now admitted if only to himself, he loved.


	3. I'm Stone in Love With You

Blair sat on a sea smoothed boulder, taking a moment for himself at the rocky beachfront. It was in a secluded part of the harbor. He wasn’t even sure if his favorite contemplation spot was private or public property. As if a person could own the stones that tumbled in from the sea and settled with their kindred spirits on the shore. The only building around was a turn of the last century canning factory, its brick walls slowly eroding and collapsing into the surf. The beach was desolate and lonely, but both Jim and he loved it and the ever changing, subtly colored stones that decorated it. He picked one up, it was blueish grey, smooth, flat, about the size of his palm and felt good in his hand.

Blair had just finished cleaning out his office at Rainier. Usually his arrival on the green by the fountain was greeted with smiles, friendly waves and hot gossip. But today he was ignored, snubbed and whispered about, since he was the topic of the hottest gossip in years. He heard what he did called academic suicide, but he knew for a fact that his actual death on campus was less painful.

The only thing that kept him from contemplating jumping in the fountain and finishing the deed was his memory of Jim at the hospital. Jim had stoically and with as few words as possible, tried to restore their friendship. He called Blair the best cop he’d ever met, the best partner he could ever ask for. Jim said he’d been a great friend. Past tense. To Blair that meant the friendship was solid but the ride was over. Time to move out and move on. He’d heard similar speeches enough times to recognise rejection even when presented with such a bittersweet smile and honest bright blue eyes.

Blair had wanted to hug Jim when he said those words. Hug him and kiss him and tell him he loved him with all he had. Instead he lowered his eyes and said nothing. It was over. This morning at the loft, after Jim left for work, Blair had packed his bags and boxed up his personal things, papers and journals. He downlowded his thesis onto a thumb drive and wiped his hard drive. He left everything to Jim, along with a note of thanks and heartfelt wishes for a good life.

He was going to say goodbye in person at the station and then drive Naomi to the airport. He thought he might lose himself somewhere in the jungles of Peru, but he wasn’t sure. His circling thoughts turned into daydreams. He imagine what he could have done with three million dollars, a best seller and a nobel prize.

What if his book became a movie, The Sentinel, starring Blair Sandburg as himself. He fingered the stone in his hand. Absently scratching a star with his fingernail.

If I could I'd like to be

A great big movie star

Overnight sensation

Drive a big expensive car

I would buy you everything

Your little heart desires

These things I do

‘Cause I'm stone in love with you

Blair smiled to himself and scratched ‘JIM’ inside the star. It would only be noticeable to Sentinel eyes. Blair wondered if Jim’s father would approve of his son being famous. Maybe he’d take his millions and become a competitor of Ellison Enterprises. With all that money, Jim wouldn’t have to work. Blair would take care of him. Blair scratched a heart in the stone’s smooth surface. He added, B loves J to the middle.

If I were a businessman

I'd sit behind a desk

I'd be so successful

I would scare Wall Street to death

I would hold a meeting for

The press to let them know

I did it all

‘Cause I'm stone in love with you

Blair sighed sadly. All his dreams still revolved around Jim and probably always would. It was going to be so hard to say goodbye, but he couldn’t just run away this time. He had to detach with love as much as he hated to do it. Jim deserved someone who could love him the way he needed to be loved.

I'm just a man, an average man

Doing everything the best I can

But if I could, I'd give the world to you

Blair looked out to the horizon. A faint full moon was ghosting the sky. He tried to recall why the moon was sometimes out during the day, but all he could come out with an old Inuit tale about the sun being in love with the moon but parted by the jealous earth. The moon would try now and again to catch a glimpse of his love, even though it drained all his strength. Blair could relate to that. He drew a moon face on his stone and made him frown. Blair had a thought that maybe Jim and he could be happy living on the moon someday. He wondered if Jim would be allergic to moondust.

I'd like to someday be the owner of

The first house on the moon

There would be no neighbors

And no population boom

You might say that all I do

Is dream my life away

I guess it's true

‘Cause I'm stone in love with you

Blair examined the stone in his hand. He imagined it to have a tiny spirit living inside. A calm, peaceful spirit that saw things in perspective. A man’s whole life was just a moment’s brush of the wind to a stone. Jim would forget him and move on. He squeezed the stone hard and closed his eyes. “Stone spirit, remember my love for Jim. I don’t want it ever to be forgotten.”

“Mr. Sandburg?”

Blair opened his eyes to see two men in grey suits standing on either side of him. He stood quickly and turned to face the tall, intimidating men. “Yes?”

Badges were pulled out and flashed. “Agent Hill and my partner, Agent Morris. We are with the FBI, Sir. We wish to talk to you about the press conference you held... and your future. We’re gonna need you to accompany us to our car, please.”

Agent Hill’s polite tone and Southern accent did little to calm Blair’s fears. Blair swallowed hard as his mouth went dry and he began to tremble. The stone was still nestled in his hand. He thought about throwing it and bolting, but Agent Morris already had a firm hold on his arm. He managed to scratch FBI and HELP into his stone with a fingertip without the Agents noticing.

“I’m not going with you anywhere. My partner is waiting for me at police headquarters. My Captain will have your badge for detaining me against my will.” Blair hoped his bravado would hide his terror.

Agent Hill sighed and deflated. He rested one of his black loafers on the boulder, leaned in and rubbed at his eyes wearily. Agent Morris placed his other hand on Blair’s shoulder, holding him in place.

“Mr. Sandburg. I understand your trepidation but we really mean you no harm and I doubt your Captain still has jurisdiction over you after you went and declared yourself a fraud. Why would he or your partner care what happened to you?” 

Blair tried to pull away from the silent Agent’s grasp but was held firm. “You’re right, man. I’m bluffing. They are so done with me after what I did. You leave Ellison and Banks out of this. Whatever this is. Like I said, I’m a fraud. There is no such thing as a Sentinel.”

Hill and Morris exchanged smiles over Blair’s curly head. Hill stood and straightened his tie. ”Now Mr. Sandburg. You and I both know they do exist and so do Guides. Guide powers are underrated if you ask me. It’s time for you to claim your rightful heritage. Your country needs you, Blair Burton”

“Burton? What heritage? Oh, you have the wrong guy. Heritage? I don’t even know who my father is.” Blair gave an hysterical laugh as the Agents glanced at one another and frowned.

Hill cleared his throat and moved closer to Blair. Blair scratched ‘Hill’ into his stone. “Sir. We assumed you knew. Your father was Doctor Blair Burton of Georgia. He died in 1968 in a lab accident after having a brief liaison with your mother Naomi. Your grandparents were an Air Force, Sentinel and Guide pair who perished in the first stage of the Vietnam War. Your great Grandfather ran a school for special needs students. Those with heightened senses. Your great great Grandfather was the explorer Richard Burton, an acclaimed expert on Sentinels. We are here to take you to Georgia to claim your rightful place in a new facility we have and I may add your substantial inheritance that has been waiting in trust for you all this time. Your mother kept all this from you and you still found your Sentinel? That’s amazing, Sir!”

Blair found he was having trouble breathing. “I… I… That can’t be true. Naomi would have… she wouldn’t have… Let me go! I need to speak to her… I need to speak to Jim… you’re lying.”

Hill nodded to his partner who produced a syringe from his jacket pocket. Blair frantically scrathed ‘GA’ into his stone just before felt the prick at his neck. The stone slipped from his fingers as the two Agents carried him to their black SUV. Blair’s car was gone, his bags already placed in the back of the nondescript vehicle. There was no trace left of Blair Sandburg except a simple blueish grey stone covered with markings only a Sentinel could see.


	4. Tears Of A Clown

Now if there's a smile on my face

It's only there trying to fool the public

But when it comes down to fooling you

Now honey, that's quite a different subject

Major Crimes was still reeling from Zeller’s destruction of their safe haven. They were all looking forward to surprising Blair Sandburg with an offer of a badge. Seeing Blair smile again would go a long ways towards healing everyone’s wounds. Henri Brown had even picked up two dozen, good old fashioned cop-friendly donuts for an impromptu party. 

The group waited, while Jim and Naomi tried to track Blair down with their phones. When Blair became a no-show, Joel offered to drive Simon and Megan home since Simon had obviously used up his reserves. Simon agreed and handed Blair’s potential badge to Jim, just in case Blair showed up late, bouncing in with apologies and excuses.

Jim smiled at his Captain. “I’ll tell him it was your idea, Simon. You get some rest. Blair and I will drop by your place tomorrow.”

Simon nodded wearily as Joel pushed his wheelchair towards the door. Megan leaned on Joel’s arm. “Okay. Bring food. Home cooked, enough for a small army. I have Darryl and Megan staying with me. Yeah, come bearing one of Sandburg’s culinary delights or I’m not letting you two in.”

Brown and Rafe stayed a few more minutes, chatting with Naomi about Blair’s more hilarious stunts. Jim sat on Brown’s desk, arms folded and a smile plastered on his face while his gut turned with worry, wondering why Blair was late. Jim would have kicked himself if his leg wasn’t already pounding like one of Blair’s African drums. Why did he think it was a good idea to surprise Blair with Simon’s offer of becoming a detective? Blair had had too much time to contemplate his bleak future since the press conference. Jim realized now that Blair might have felt he had nothing left. Jim, knowing about the offer, had acted like a selfish clown and did nothing to relinquish Blair’s fears.

But don't let my glad expression

Give you the wrong impression

Really, I'm sad

Oh, I'm sadder than sad

You're gone and I'm hurtin' so bad

Like a clown I pretend to be glad

Brown stopped laughing when he noticed Rafe had gone quiet and was rubbing his neck. Rafe received a minor head wound in the skirmish with, The Iceman, and suffered a concussion. Brown placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “You had enough for today, buddy? It’s past time for your meds.” Brown stood and helped his partner up. “I better get this guy home, Jim. Tell Blair we really wish him all the best.”

“Yeah,” Rafe managed as Brown helped him on with his jacket. “We’re looking forward to having a rookie around to do our bidding.”

Jim noticed how Brown hovered over his friend. Keeping a steadying hand on Rafe as if trying to assure himself that he was still there, alive and whole. And Rafe allowed it, seeming to need the same closeness. Jim smiled at the pair. He knew how H felt. There was nothing worse than seeing your partner hurt and not being able to prevent it. Jim felt a tightness behind his eyes, but he refused to allow tears to form. 

Jim waved his cane at the partners, pretending to be carefree. “Rafe, take it easy, no dates for at least a week. A concussion is nothing to fool with. Take good care of our boy, H.” Jim turned to Naomi and the fake smile fell from his face. She was looking at him intently. She went right to the point.

“Jim. Let’s not borrow trouble. Blair told me he’d be here. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to you. Blair will always be my baby, but he’s a grown man. A man who is loyal to those he loves. A man that doesn’t run from his responsibilities. I’ll drive us back to the loft. Maybe he got lost in meditation.” Naomi took Jim’s arm and helped him get back up on his feet. 

“Naomi, don’t you have a plane to catch?”

Naomi schooled her features. She wanted Blair to leave Jim, but not at such a cost. She was beginning to think she was wrong about Sentinels. At least about her son’s Sentinel. She gave Jim a chaste kiss on the cheek. “What? And miss the chance to drive your classic beast? I decided to stay a little while longer, hand over the keys.”

~~0~~

Jim opened the front door to the loft and limped in. Naomi followed putting a hand to her mouth in alarm. They both immediately noticed the loft was tidy. Too tidy. The main room and kitchen room had been cleaned of pens, papers, stacks of library books and half-full teacups. Blair’s artifacts were missing from the bookcase as was a framed picture Blair had taken at the MC bullpen a few years ago of a laughing Naomi, nestled between a smirking Simon and a smiling Jim.

Jim stood frozen to the spot, breathing deeply. He shook himself and entered Blair’s room under the stairs, while Naomi went to the kitchen to make some tea. They both sensed that Blair's presence was gone. Jim entered Blair’s room and shut the door behind him. Boxes were neatly stacked with white labels marked carefully in Blair’s solid printing. Most of his clothes were gone, but his heaviest winter gear was still hanging in the dark recesses of the closet. Jim picked up Blair’s furry ear flapped winter hat that had fallen to the closet floor. He petted it absently like a favorite cat, then dropped it as he looked frantically for a note. The dresser was cleared except for two manuscripts with a thumb drive on top and an envelope with Jim’s name on it. His leg nearly gave out, so he sat on Blair’s bed. He opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet, printed off the computer.

Jim,

Here is the note I promised that would explain my intentions. If you are reading this then I assume we have said our goodbyes and hopefully parted friends. I’ll let you know where I am when I know myself. Just give me some time to settle somewhere.

I’ve taken with me all I really cherish, and what I cherish most, our friendship. Strange how little I have that is not connected to my now defunct Anthropological career and you. Keep or give away whatever you want and destroy the rest. There is one box marked for Naomi with some pictures, papers and trinkets I thought she might want to keep. 

The two copies of The Sentinel, are the only ones in existence. I retrieved one of those copies from Sid. He assures me he deleted Naomi’s email and that it was the only hard copy he had. You may want to follow up on that and put the fear of Ellison into him or let Naomi do it. She is much scarier than you.The thumb drive has all my notes from the day I met you to the present, plus, The Sentinel, in its edited and unedited form. You will notice a third complete document written in a different style, where both our identities are completely hidden. It’s a sort of self-help book for Sentinels and Guides. I actually did have a plan in the works to keep your identity safe, but I never got a chance to tell you in private.

I talked to Jack Kelso, without telling him details of course, if he would consider publishing a controversial book I wrote under his name. I would become a ghost author, so to speak, and your secret would be safe, but the information I gathered would be available to others suffering as you suffered. Please, consider talking to him and publishing that book. I’m giving you legal authority over all of my books. I stake no claim over what is essentially your biography. My hard drive has been wiped clean. The Sentinel was written with all my heart and soul for your eyes only and perhaps those of your future children. I intend to start a new life with a clean slate. I have one last theory to leave you with, that my absence will help you suppress your senses like you’ve really wanted from the start. Until you manage it, please, share your secret with someone, Joel or Megan perhaps, so they can watch your back properly.

I decided way back when you gave me a place to stay and took me as your partner, that you and our work together was more important than adding three letters after my name. I thought being a loser grad student, one among hundreds with all but a doctorate, was a pretty good cover. It worked for four years at least. I never intended to publish, The Sentinel, and obtain my doctorate. I hope you take the fact that I had an alternate plan in the works before this disaster hit, as proof that I never meant to exploit your gift for my own personal gain in any way.

Jim, I know what I intended to tell you today at MC, but let me say it here too. 

The years I spent at your side were the best of my life. I love you with all my heart, soul and beyond. I would have followed you anywhere. Even into the relationship I know you never wanted with me. You have been my best friend. You gave me the only home I ever had or ever will have. You gave me a purpose. You gave me a feeling of self-worth. You are my brother of the heart and so much more. I love you. I will never forget you.

Your,

Guide, Chief, Darwin, Einstein, Little Guppy, Neo-Hippie, Witch Doctor. Punk.

Blair Sandburg

Jim inhaled the scent of his guide that clung to the note. He saw that Blair had signed the paper with a black pen making it a legal document of sorts. He also noticed Blair’s hand shook when he signed. Jim took a finger and traced the salt trail from the tears Blair shed while reading it over. Jim folded the letter carefully and put it back in the envelope. He held it to the pain in his chest that was twisting his heart. He hung his head as the tears began to silently fall.

Now there's some sad things known to man

But ain't too much sadder than

The tears of a clown

When there's no one around

Jim finally succumbed to sleep after letting his bottled up emotions out on Blair’s pillow. The sweet honeyed scent of his Guide soothing him even though he was gone. Jim blinked awake slowly, the pain in his head matching the pain in his leg. Something smelled wonderful, garlic, onions and herbs teased his senses. He heard the soft hiss of the gas burner on the stove and the rhythmic beat of a sauce being stirred with a wooden spoon. 

Jim got to his feet and opened the door, his heart in his throat. “Blair?”

Naomi turned her head away from the sauce she was tending. “Oh, sweetie. No. He’s not back. I popped out to the store while you were resting. I thought I’d make you some comfort food. Spaghetti, baked eggplant parmesan and garlic bread. It’s nearly ready. You need to take your pills too. I don’t approve of them usually, but a gunshot wound is beyond my usual herbal healing skills. You know garlic, onion and parsley are all natural antibiotics. Sit down, Jim. Let me take care of you a little. Blair would want that.”

“Naomi. He’s really gone isn’t he? It’s all my fault! He didn’t think he had any options. Why did I feel the need to surprise him? I should of kept him glued to my side so he couldn’t bolt. I fucked up and now he’s gone, thinking I didn’t want him around anymore. That I didn’t want him to be my partner anymore. Naomi! I have to find him!” 

Naomi turned the heat under her sauce down as low as possible. She sat next to Jim and took his hand. “Jim. Calm down. Did Blair leave you a note?”

“Yeah. It… it was... “

Naomi squeezed his hand. “Sweetie, I don’t need to read it if it was private. But just tell me, did Blair sound like he was in despair?”

“Oh, no. No, Naomi. He sounded… sad and lost. Determined to walk away for my sake. To give me back the life I had before I met him. Naomi, he is so wrong. I had no life before I met him. He is my life. But, no, he didn’t sound despondent. He said he didn’t know where he was going to go, but that he’d get in touch when he settled. The letter was mostly about what to do with his research. With his thesis… um…”

“Oh, Jim. I know Blair held that press conference to protect you. I know my son, he would never hurt you or exploit you for gain. I’ve always known about his search for a Sentinel. I know you think I’m a new age flake, but I can see auras. Blair’s changed when he met you. I know he’s your Guide and you are his Sentinel. I can see it.”

Jim’s eyes and mouth opened wide he attempted to deny the truth, but sighed in resignation. “Naomi, I have been such a fucking idiot about everything.”

The timer on the stove dinged and Naomi rose. “Jim, Blair will eventually check in with one of us. Have patience and try not to worry. Let’s eat and gather our strength. I have a story I’d like to tell you and I think it would be better if I told it to you after a good meal and in front of a roaring fire.” 

The loft fireplace was hissing with white hot heat as the evening progressed. The fire was bright and even, the impurities having been burned away hours ago. Jim had to stop himself from gazing at the dancing flames too long. Part of him wanted to zone until his precious Guide came back to call him home again.

Jim closed his watering eyes, irritated by the smoke of the fire and his burning emotions. He rubbed the annoying moisture away. Naomi’s delicious dinner and his pain medication were making it hard to focus. He opened his eyes and turned to Naomi who was folded in Blair’s favorite afghan next to him on the couch.

Jim began wearily, “So let me see if I have this straight. Blair’s great grandfather ran a school for Sentinels in Georgia. A school, you have a suspicion, my father refused to send me to. Blair’s great great grandfather was Richard Burton who was also a Guide. Blair comes from a long line of Guides. His father was Doctor Blair Burton, who was killed in a lab accident at an underground nuclear research facility in Georgia.”

“Yes, Jim. I loved Blair’s father very much. I still love him. I knew at the time he was coming back to me. I believe he was murdered by the military to stop him from telling what he knew.”

“So you took two year old Blair to Georgia after his great grandfather died and set up a trust fund for him, accessible to him on his 30th birthday.”

“Yes, I intended for him to grow up without knowledge of Sentinels and Guides. I arranged for two-thousand a month to be paid to me for expenses. I wanted him to be a free spirit, unencumbered by his birthright and not be tied down by possessions and money. My friends and I also managed to get the nuclear facility closed down.”

Jim nodded. “And Blair’s father hated Sentinels.”

“He had very bad experiences with young Sentinels at school. I’m sorry Jim. I think he would have liked you, I do. He was more afraid of having his freedom taken away. Jim, after being with you the last few days. Seeing how much you love Blair. I’ve changed my mind. I was wrong. We have more in common than you might think, Jim. I am convinced that I was meant to be with Blair’s father. I think there may be other types of sensitives in the world. You can sense the physical world and I can sense the spiritual world. I think Blair’s father was my Guide.”

“Naomi, do you even realize how much you have hurt Blair keeping all this from him? He grew up without a home, without a heritage, thinking his father wanted nothing to do with him. It colored his whole personality. You’ve hurt Blair and me by breaking us apart. You’ve destroyed everything he ever dreamed of and worked for. Blair is gone. Out there alone, miserable and scared, thinking he doesn’t have a home anymore, thinking I don’t love him. Why should I forgive you?”

“I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’ll leave right now and you’ll never see me again. But you’ll have to examine your own actions. I was wrong but I acted out of love for my son. You love my son and never told him how much you needed him. You acted like you didn’t care, wore the mask of macho cop. Let him believe you saw him as a clown, when you were the one acting the part. We were both given the most beautiful soul in the world to care for and failed miserably. Wouldn’t it be better if we forgive each other and started acting like the family Blair needs?”

Jim sighed and sank deeper into the couch. Naomi placed a hesitant hand on his and slowly wound her fingers around his. He didn’t pull away, seeking the comfort of a Sandburg’s touch even if it was the wrong Sandburg. “Naomi, I miss him so much I can hardly breathe. What should I do?”

“I’m sure he’ll contact you. He’ll be worried about your senses, your recovery and your healing friends. Just give him a little time.”

~~0~~

Now if I appear to be carefree

It's only to camouflage my sadness

In order to shield my pride I've tried

To cover this hurt with a show of gladness

Naomi dropped Jim off at the station with a promise to pick him up for lunch, her treat. She offered to accompany him to Simon’s house after that. Naomi felt she owed it to to Blair to watch over Jim and make sure he had the help he needed till he was feeling better. She wanted to do something to make up for her behavior. She selfishly hoped helping Jim in Blair’s absence would soften Blair’s anger when he found out what she did. She didn’t want to lose his love.

Jim leaned heavily on his cane as he walked from the elevator to Major Crimes. He never realized how much extra energy he gained just by having Blair bouncing by his side. He felt drained and old, but he put on a smile and greeted H.

“Hey, buddy. It sure is quiet around here. How’s Rafe doing?”

H looked up from his computer, a smile never made it to his face. “I’m worried, Jim. He’s been getting these killer headaches. The doctor said it was normal after an impact from a bullet, even if it was just a graze. But he’s, I don’t know, not himself. I made him stay at my place. I just hope it’s not… something more serious.”

Jim nodded sympathetically. He had never seen H so unsure of himself before. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, H. Give him a week. I’m here now. Why don’t you go check on him. I’ll tell Joel. New cases are on hold anyway with us so short staffed.” 

“That would be great, Jim. You know how it is with partners, you get one trained just the way you want them, it’s a pain to train a new one,” he joked. “How’s Blair doing? Is he going to join the force?”

Jim smiled, again. His face ached form the effort. “He’s taking some time to lay low. He wants to process the offer, you know how he is.”

H was already pulling on his jacket. “Yeah. He’s had a rough time of it. You’re sure he knows we have his back, right? We know he’d never sell you out. In all the confusion, with Rafe bein’ hurt and all, I never got to tell him that.”

“Yeah, uh, sure H. He knows. Tell Rafe… we… we hope he’s back on his feet, soon.” Jim watched him leave and wondered how much Brown and Rafe had guessed. 

But don't let my show convince you

That I've been happy since you

Decided to go

Oh, I need you so

I'm hurt and I want you to know

But for others I put on a show

He limped into the Captain’s office. Joel sat behind the desk, looking like he belonged there. Jim was grateful Joel had taken over in Simon’s absence. Joel always rose the occasion, and this time was no exception.

Joel looked up and pointed to an empty chair. “Jim. Good to see you. Sit down, please. It hurts just to look at you leaning on that cane.” 

Jim sat slowly and smiled at his temporary Captain. He fiddled with his cane, giving his hands something to do. “I told Brown to head home to check on Rafe. I could tell he was worried about leaving him alone with a concussion. I hope that's alright, Captain.” 

Joel chuckled at the formality. “Sure, that’s fine. God, Jim. Four of us shot. We are damn lucky everyone is alive and recovering. Where’s Blair? I wanted to talk to him.”

“Sandburg’s taking some time to himself. You, know. Meditating, lighting candles, banging drums. He has to decide whether he can stand the torture of being my rookie. Plus, Naomi decided to stay a while. He’s hanging out with his mom…”

Joel frowned and folded his hands on top of Simon’s desk. “Cut the crap, Ellison. You think my momma raised a fool? You told Blair we wanted him here, didn’t you? We all realise he might not choose to go to the academy, but the offer was more a show of solidarity. We wanted to make sure he knew, that we knew he wasn’t a fraud. What did he say when you told him?”

Jim rested his head on the top of his cane for a moment to compose himself. “You know you’re channeling, Simon, don’t you Joel?”

“Must be the chair, Jim. Gives you a different perspective. Tell me what happened.”

Jim looked up, his blue eyes gray with pain. “He’s gone. He left yesterday while we were all waiting for him. He left me a note. It only said, what to do with his things, and a personal goodbye. He said he’d get in touch when he settled somewhere.”

Joel let out a weary sigh. “Damn, Jim. He left thinking we abandoned him? How could we have let that happen? I should have dragged him in this office as soon as I took over as Captain and set him straight.”

Jim held up a hand. “Wait, Joel. It wasn’t your fault. It's all on me. Well, and Naomi. I’m the one who didn’t have his back. He sacrificed his life for me and I let him… I… I mean...”

Joel rolled his eyes as he sat back in Simon’s chair. “Come on, Jim. You really think we didn’t know about your abilities? That you are a Sentinel and Blair is your Guide? Brown, Rafe, Megan and I have been covering and protecting you two for years. We all feel responsible for you and Blair. Especially Blair who had no training as a cop. Rafe and Brown are especially good at keeping track of you two without you knowing it. They figured out the range of your hearing and sight before you and Blair did.”

“Joel. I’m sorry. I never realised…”

“It’s okay. We’re that good. Now, do you want me to put an APB out on the Volvo and bring our boy home?”

“I… maybe he should have some time to himself. I don’t want to hunt him down. Joel, I think it may be better this way. If he knew the truth, that I needed him like the air I breathe, he’d never leave and what kind of life would that be for him? It may be better to let him go.”

“I think you’re wrong, Jim. But… I guess we can give him some time.” Joel rose and pushed his chair back, coming around the desk he placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder. “I have a meeting with the Chief to get to. Don’t worry, it’ll work out. Blair is brilliant and as loyal as they come. I’m sure he’ll get in touch with you soon. Why don’t you stretch out on the couch for a while, buddy?” Joel never let on that he had every intention of putting out that APB as soon as he was out of earshot of the Sentinel.

Jim thought resting his leg sounded like a good idea. Better than facing paperwork and an empty bullpen. He slowly stood and hobbled over to the couch, once situated he relaxed and pulled a blanket over his throbbing leg. The office was eerily silent and his eyes grew inexplicitly wet as he tried to doze.

Oh, there's some sad things known to man

But there ain't too much sadder than

The tears of a clown

When there's no one around, oh yeah

~~0~~

Naomi entered the bullpen of MC and was startled to find it empty except for a young, fresh faced uniformed officer who was temporarily manning the phones during the clean-up and restoration of the Major Crimes Department. 

“Excuse me, I’m Naomi Sandburg. I’m supposed to meet Jim Ellison for lunch.”

“Oh, yes. Detective Ellison is resting in Captain Taggert’s office. The Captain said not to disturb him, but I guess if you’re his lunch date…”

Naomi cringed at how much damage she had inadvertently caused. Blair had mentioned that the media circus gave the crazed sniper an upper hand. “I’ll just go back and wake him, if that’s alright.”

She didn't wait for an answer. The bullpen was oppressive with negative vibes. She could almost feel the hate, fear and sorrow still lingering in the air. She suddenly craved fresh air, but made her way back to the Captain’s office anyway.

“Jim, sweetie. Wake up.” She touched him lightly on his shoulder and he snapped awake, looking a little panicked.

“Chief?”

“Jim. It’s Naomi. You’re fine, you just fell asleep on Simon’s couch. We’re having lunch together remember?”

Jim sat up, gingerly lowering his legs to the floor. “Sorry, Naomi. I was dreaming… about… a wolf. He was trapped in a red clay pit. I was looking for a rope...”

“Oh? That’s strange. Maybe the negative vibes of this place are making you feel trapped. Well then, what say we get some sandwiches, have a picnic lunch outdoors and enjoy this sunny day. Do you have a favorite park or beach where you like to go?”

Jim smile was bittersweet but genuine this time. “Yeah. I do. Let’s get out of here.”

~~0~~

Just like Pagliacci did

I try to keep my sadness hid

Smiling in the public eye

But in my lonely room I cry

The tears of a clown

When there's no one around

Naomi pulled up to the unkempt parking lot next to an abandoned factory. The view of the harbor was spectacular and the secluded rocky shorefront was just what she needed to restore her positive chakra flow. But before Jim could open the door to the truck, she held him back. “Jim I want you to have something.” She handed Jim a small black and white porcelain figure of Pagliacci, the famous crying clown from the opera of the same name.

“It was in the box Blair left for me. I can’t believe he still had it. I took Blair to see the opera Pagliacci at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion in Los Angeles when he was six. Oh my, Pavarotti was singing that night and Blair was enchanted. Do you know the libretto of Pagliacci?”

Jim tilted his head as if recalling a memory. “Yeah. My parents took me and my brother to the opera a few times. When my mother was still around. I guess it was supposed to give us some class. I never cared for sitting still and the loud singing. But, yeah. The black and white clown’s wife cheats on him in real life and in the play he’s performing with her and her lover. He cries before he goes on stage and stabs both of them like it’s part of the play. That part was cool.”

“Well, it certainly makes an impression on young boys, I see! I didn’t explain the story to Blair, thinking he was too young to understand betrayal and would just enjoy the singing and the spectacle of the opera. Blair saw Pagliacci cry and he started to cry too. Quietly. He barely made a sound. He asked me later why none of the other clowns noticed Pagliacci was so sad. He said if he were the clown’s buddy, he’d teach him to juggle so he’d be happy again. I bought him this little souvenir and told him he could be his friend. He played with it like it was an action figure. Blair’s sad clown was a super hero who saved him over and over again.”

Jim took the tiny statue out of Naomi’s hand and examined it. The glaze was cracked, the tip-top of the clown’s hat was broken off and there was a raggedy glue line where he had been lovingly put back together by a boy’s hand. Jim was touched beyond words, as he ran a finger across the sad face of the clown. Jim could see one small black tear was originally painted by the factory on the white face, but over it, painted by tiny fingers was a red heart.

“I want you to have it, Jim. I know he wouldn’t want you to be a sad Pagliacci.”


	5. Hold On I'm Coming

Hold on, I'm comin'

Hold on, I'm comin'

~~0~~

Jim perched atop Blair’s favorite boulder overlooking the Sound. Naomi sat nearby on a sandy patch of seagrass tidying up the remains of their impromptu picnic. The breeze was brisk when they first arrived, but now the wind was calm and the water sparkled with a thousand flickering silver lights. Jim had automatically adjusted his sight and listened instead to the soothing sound of stones tumbling to the shore. He carefully took a deep breath and inhaled Naomi's scent. It was decidedly feminine, but too cloying for his tastes, clouded by chemicals from her various beauty products. He turned off her scent, as Blair taught him to do, wanting to clear his head with the fresh seabreeze. Suddenly he was overcome with Blairscent, the honeysweet yet thoroughly masculine scent of his guide. He opened his eyes. 

“Naomi! Blair was here recently. Right here.” Jim stood unsteadily on the rocky beach. He breathed deeply and almost cried out. Blair’s scent was tinged with the sour tang he had come to associate with anxiety and fear.

“Jim? He was here? Are you alright? Jim?” She stood and touched his arm instinctively grounding him as best she could. The light touch was enough to pull Jim back to the present reality. Jim bent down and touched a few rocks in the vicinity of the Blairscent. It grew stronger when he spied a blueish gray stone that seemed to have scratches on it. He picked up the stone and gazed at it and rubbed his finger over the light marks. “My God! Naomi, Blair wrote on this rock. Look!”

“I… I don’t see anything, Jim. What do you see?”

This side has three drawings. A star with, JIM, inside of it, a heart with, B loves J, written on it and a circle, no, a sad moon face” Jim flipped the stone over. “This side has hurried words. FBI, HELP. HILL, GA.”

Naomi gasped and tightened her grasp on Jim’s arm. She touched the stone herself even though she still saw nothing on it . “FBI? GA? Jim. JIM! He’s been taken. I can feel the stone’s spirit mixed with Blair’s own. There is love and longing, then anxiety and… violence. Jim. He’s in trouble. I.. I think the FBI has taken him to Georgia against his will. It must have been the press conference. Oh, my poor baby, what have I done?”

Jim ignored her emotional outburst in order to search the area. He stooped down awkwardly and picked up a small plastic cap. Holding it gingerly to his nose, he inhaled a sharp medicinal odor and another he knew too well and wished he didn’t. A minute trace of Blair’s blood. “They drugged him, Naomi. This is the cap to a syringe. They must have dropped it when Blair struggled. Naomi, his note. The one he left behind at the loft. He had every intention of coming to the station. I should have realized that sooner. I can see for miles. Why am I always so blind when it comes to your son?”

“Love will do that to you, Jim.”

Jim’s phone chimed. He reached for it and saw it was Joel. 

//Jim, you need to meet me at Southside docks, near the old Sailor’s Church right away.//

//Joel. Blair’s been abducted. I need you to put out that APB. I should have listened to you...//

//I did put our that APB and we found Blair’s car. What’s left of it. Jim… it was set on fire. There was no sign of Blair at all. Not even his backpack. I think he’s still alive.//

Jim nodded frantically, even though Joel couldn’t see him. 

//I think I know where he is, Joel. I’ll fill you in when I see you. Naomi and I are nearby, we can be there in five. Joel, I think I’ll need to fly to Georgia. But first I need to talk to Jack Kelso.//

Naomi helped Jim to the truck, his cane clenched painfully in one hand, Blair’s etched stone held tightly in his other.

~~0~~

Now don't you ever be sad

Lean on me when times are bad

When the day comes and you're down

In a river of trouble, about to drown

Hold on, I'm comin'

Hold on, I'm comin

“Bunker Thirteen,” Jack Kelso maneuvered his wheelchair to his cluttered desk and dropped a thick file in front of the seated Sentinel. Jim picked it up as Naomi stood and looked over his shoulder. Naomi gasped as a labelled picture of Doctor Burton giving a lecture to a group of uniformed marines fell from the front of the folder.

Jim examined the photo carefully, he immediately saw the resemblance. The man had Blair’s hair color and curl. But it was the eyes that gave it away. The man had Blair’s expressive eyes or rather Blair had his. Jim handed the photo to Naomi whose eyes were bright with tears. “Naomi? I take it that’s … him?”

Naomi smiled and nodded. She devoured the picture and a small hesitant smile brightened her countenance.

Jack glanced at Blair’s mother and his partner. He was getting a bad feeling that something was seriously wrong with Blair, but he didn’t want to push… yet. 

“That’s Doctor Burton. He perished in 1968, in a mysterious lab fire at the now disassembled, Georgia Nuclear Aircraft Lab, an underground nuclear facility at Dawsonville, Georgia. The fire occurred right before the good doctor had an appointment with a Senator Harris. Harris was outraged and asked for an investigation, but suddenly went quiet when the death was declared accidental. At the time the cold war was raging and some Pentagon idiots thought it would be a great idea to do some secret testing near Fort Gordon, but not too near. One of the reactors was unshielded and caused a massive radiation leak. The facility was closed in 1971, due to the efforts of some protestor friends of Doctor Burton. One of the woman in the group spoke to the Senate floor. She tried unsuccessfully to reopen Burton’s case. She suspected arson and murder. I’ve never been able to find out her name, she disappeared rather quickly. All I know is she wasn’t a native of Georgia. I assumed she was a friend or co-worker of Burton’s, but that was a dead end. Burton’s grandfather died soon afterwards. It’s unclear what happened to his millions. He ran a school near Lake Burton, Georgia that closed upon his death. Burton had old money and lot’s of it. I hope the bastards that murdered Doctor Burton didn’t get their hands on his money.”

Jack looked up quizzically at his subdued guests. Something was definitely wrong. He decided to go on anyway. “Well, those Pentagon big thinkers must have learned their lesson the hard way, because they built another facility, this time in Tift County, Georgia. It’s more or less in the middle of the state. Quiet, suburban area. Lots of old growth pine forests to hide in…”

Naomi almost shouted, “No! Oh, no! They didn’t rebuild! Tell me those bastards didn’t rebuild!”

Jack wondered at her outburst, but tried to reassure her. “Well, not exactly. They didn’t rebuild a nuclear reactor. This time it was a state of the art underground bomb shelter, Bunker Thirteen. Self-contained, it’s said to be able to withstand a 20-kiloton atomic blast. It’s rumoured to be an over the top, safe house of sorts in case of nuclear attack. The Pentagon supposedly sold it at a loss in 1994, to a private government contractor. It’s now more or less an extremely exclusive doomsday hotel. It has 40 rooms, 45 feet underground. Over a dozen people can stay in luxury accommodations with classroom facilities. It’s located in a fenced compound outside of the town of Tifton. The only part of the structure above ground is a small cement block building that houses the reception area, a small lounge, locker room for the ever present guards, elevators and stairs.”

Jim reached out and took Naomi’s hand and guided her to sit in the leather office chair. She obeyed and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find her center and hold herself together.

Jack frowned. He was tired of being kept in the dark. “What’s going on, Jim? What has all this got to do with Blair?”

“We believe Blair’s been taken against his will to Georgia by an FBI agent named Hill. You were the first person I could think of that might have some information on Hill. My Captain got hold of the Feds, but they are already denying any involvement. They said they don’t even have an agent Hill listed anywhere in the bureau. Does that name, Agent Hill sound familiar?”

Jack went to his computer and typed in his password. “I don’t think I would have remembered if you hadn’t been talking about Georgia. Fort Gordon is also home to the NSA, jokingly called, the ‘No Such Agency’. It’s supposed to be a fact-gathering facility. Newest computer systems, sort of a pulse on the world’s heartbeat. Listening in to worldwide rumors and events to give our government a heads up if something is going down. Sounds like bullshit to me, but I can only spread myself so thin investigating hinky government security plots.” He focused on his computer screen as he typed rapidly. “Here we go. NSA agents active. Fenton Hill, Georgia native, partner Hugh Morris, midwestern boy, Kansas City, MO. Currently assigned to operation… oh, God, Jim… Operation Sentinel.”

Jim took in a breath as the room started to close in on him. The thing Blair most feared happening to Jim had happened to Blair. Jim’s heart skipped a beat thinking of what a group of government assholes, studying Sentinels might want with his Guide. The panther roared in his ears with possessive fury. Naomi placed a hand on his arm as she had seen Blair do and Jim came back to himself. 

“Jack they took Blair. Why? What will they do to him?”

Jack leaned forward in his chair. “Jim. You have to trust me. I consider Blair Sandburg a true friend and I don’t have many of those. Let me help you. Tell me about Sentinels.”

It took a surprisingly short time to fill Jack in. He had already guessed some of it. It was the only the mystical part that he was skeptical of. Jack solemnly took possession of the thumb drive Jim offered him, containing Blair’s books and notes. “If anything happens to me Jack,” Jim implored, “publish Blair’s books.“

After some strategy discussions with Jack, Jim decided to leave immediately for Georgia. Naomi protested being left behind, but Jack said he could use her help, pulling up information now that he knew what he was looking for. Jim also wanted her to work with Joel in CPD’s investigation of Blair’s disappearance, bringing pressure to bear on the Feds and the NSA. Naomi implied to Jack that she still had friends in the Senate that owed her favors. She was more than willing to call in her markers, letting them know that Naomi Sandburg was still a force to be reckoned with.

Naomi drove Jim to the airport. He was dressed in a black t-shirt, combat boots, his old army fatigues and field jacket, still decorated with his Captain’s insignias as if he was going to war. He left his cane behind, and dialed down his pain, stoically. 

Naomi hated to see him go, so reminiscent of other times she had seen friends fly off dressed in their uniforms never to return. “Jim, be careful. But please, bring my son back.” She kissed his cheek and watched as he shouldered his pack and marched off.

Jim stared out the window of the plane to Georgia. He had his senses dialed down as Blair had taught him to do. He couldn't chance zoning out when his Guide needed him. He twisted in his seat, as worry and fear tore at his gut. He was in love with his partner, so much in love that he was willing to open his heart after a lifetime of repression. The old thing was rusty, but still beating strong, seeking out the beat of another heart more dear to him than his own life or lifestyle. "Hold on, Chief, " Jim whispered to the gathering clouds. "Hold on for me, I'm coming."

I’m on my way, I’m your lover

And if it feels cold, I will be your cover

Never have to worry 'cause I'm here

Ah, don't need to suffer, baby, 'cause I'm near 

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

Hold on, I'm comin'

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

Hold on, I'm comin', look

~~0~~

Blair woke slowly. He blinked his eyes once, but thought better of opening them just yet. He tried instead to figure out what the hell he had done the night before. It wasn’t a completely new experience. He was basically a career student after all. And mornings where you woke up feeling like you’d been transported to an alien planet came with the territory. 

Blair took stock of his situation. He was on a really nice bed. Even nicer than Jim’s. He opened half an eye at that thought. Nope, not the loft, not Jim’s bed and no Jim beside him. Blair felt a twinge of regret at that. One of his favorite fantasies was waking in Jim’s bed, although that fantasy was usually followed by amazing fantasy morning sex with his Sentinel.

Now Blair was getting curious. He forced his eyes open. The artificial lighting of the room was subdued and not too jarring to his headache. As a matter of fact his headache wasn’t too bad either. He’d had way worse swallowing the worm from a bottle of tequila after his return flight from Sierra Verde. He’d made some lame excuses and headed from the plane to an airport bar, not wanting to face the scourge of the loft. But Jim showed up eventually and poured him into the truck. He’d ended up in Jim’s bed that night, something about Jim not wanting to find him wandering around the sad, empty rooms and onto the perilous balcony. Jim was a complete gentleman as always.

Reliving that memory, exercised his brain cells enough to bring him fully awake. He was indeed in a luxurious king size bed, decorated to the hilt with a tasteful patterned brown comforter and enough matching pillows for a small army to engage in a serious pillow fight. The room was well stocked with a dresser, a desk and an open armoire filled with electronic devices including a flat screen TV, stereo and computer. Blair was wearing old fashioned, but new black silk pajamas with some sort of Patch on the pocket of the jacket. He looked upside down and made out the words Burton Academy. “Burton,” he mumbled, “What the hell?”

Blair pushed back the plush comforter and blankets, blinking away the mist still lingering in his eyes as he took in the room. He saw his clothes piled on chair right inside the bathroom door. They looked like they had been washed and neatly folded. He padded barefoot to the door. “Of course it’s locked and there are no windows.” Blair began to look around for something to use to pick the lock. He opened a few drawers and finally found a few paper clips in the back of the the desk drawer. He dropped them into his pocket. Blair felt dizzy as one last surge of whatever he was drugged with made itself known. He sank into a chair and held his head in his hands. After a few minutes of deep breathing, he began to surface from his daze and remembered being at the stony beach. “Hill. Morris. FBI. I’ve been abducted! Shit.” His hands began to shake. He knew it would do no good, but he called out softly. “Jim? Can you hear me? I could really, really use my Blessed Protector right about now.”

Blair jumped up when the door knob slowly turned. “Oh, man. Jim?”

A tall, bald man entered the room and locked the door behind him. It was hard to tell his age exactly, he was in his late fifties or early sixties and kept himself in great shape. He wore a polo shirt with the same Burton Academy logo embroidered over his heart. He had a healthy tan, and looked more like a cruise ship activities planner, than a kidnapper, in his khaki shorts and sandals.

“Sorry, Mister Blair. I’m afraid your partner Jim was definitely not invited to this homecoming. How are you feeling? Do you need some tylenol? Or perhaps some herbal tea?”

The man stepped closer to Blair and breathed deeply. He seemed to find a scent on the air that pleased him. Blair backed away.

“Who are you? Where am I? Are you with the FBI?”

“Oh, I am very sorry. Where are my manners? I just find you so enticing. Your aroma…” The man sniffed the air again, “Heavenly. Your face is like that of an angel. You must excuse me, Blair. I’m Silas Martin and this is my school. Burton Academy named after your forefathers. The men who picked you up were not FBI but NSA. I have been helping them with a little problem of there’s. That’s how I heard about you.” 

Blair backed into the bed and fell across it. He quickly sat up on the edge. “I… I.... look, man. I told the FBI-NSA-ABC, whatever, guys, you have the wrong person. I’m not Blair Burton. I’m Blair Sandburg. Blair’s an unusual name for a guy. I can see why you thought I was your man. So just let me leave and we can forget the whole misunderstanding.”

Silas sat beside Blair and touched his hair, breathing in the rising scent from the disturbed locks. “Oh, like honeysuckle in the rain. Blair you are magnificent.” Blair twirled to his feet, pulling the stands of his hair out of the creeper’s hand and faced him, anger coloring his cheeks. “What’s with you, man? Quit sniffing me. I... “ Blair’s eyes opened wide as he really looked at the man who held him captive. Blair felt a strange feeling of electricity crawling beneath his skin that he experienced before, like when Jim was in the hospital or when Alex… “you’re a Sentinel,” Blair blurted out.

Silas clapped his hands. “Very good, honeysuckle. And you my angel, are the prettiest Guide I have ever seen. Well, except for your blessed father of course. We went to school together him and I. A long, long time ago now. He should have been mine. I waited so long for him, but you know, he was shy and bookish, with these adorable glasses always perched on his perfect nose. You have his nose, you know. And his beautiful blue eyes. But his were a shade darker, like a sadness lingered there. He didn’t want to bond, till he fell in love, he used to say. Just to tease me, you know how Guides are. Bet you teased that Jim Ellison something fierce. I understood that. I did. I was patient. I was. As patient as I could be. Sometimes the fever would be on me and I had to force myself on him and take him for my own, but you can’t really bond with a Guide till he decides he’s yours.”

There was so much wrong with what this deranged Sentinel was saying, Blair didn’t know what to say. But he did know talking was better than having this crazy man close to him. “What do you mean? The man you knew in school was my father?”

Silas stood and began to pace like a lion in a cage. “Blair Burton was your father and my Guide. Your grandparents were a Sentinel/Guide couple in the Air Force who were killed in the line of duty. Your great grandfather ran the Sentinel school I attended with your father. Your great great grandfather was Sir Richard Burton, explorer, adventurer, and Guide. He searched all his life, all over the world for his Sentinel and finally found her working in a perfumery house in his own hometown of London. She had worked her way up in a New York company and they sent that little Georgia Peach to London. It was fate. Guides always find their Sentinel. They married and she told her groom she was sick of the London fog and bad air. She wanted to go back to the pine fresh, sweetness of Georgia. He built her a town and they started the first school for young Sentinels.”

Although Blair was intrigued and shocked by what Silas was saying, he had more than enough experience with insane Sentinels for one lifetime. He backed slowly to the door. And began to work the lock open with the paper clip hidden in his hand. He just needed to keep Silas distracted.

“That’s all fascinating, man. But you still haven’t told me how your Blair, your guide ended up being my father.”

“Blair, your poor father, was hurt at his job at the Georgia Nuclear Aircraft Lab over in Dawsonville. My Guide suffered bad burns to his precious hands. I stayed with him the whole time he was in the hospital. I became his hands. It was a wonderful time of closeness with my Guide. But your great grandfather had to interfere. Told the nurses not to allow me to disturb his grandson. Disturb my guide? He needed me. Then he took him away. I heard the nurses talking, Blair was sick, radiation sickness, and that old fool took him away from his Sentinel. When he returned, Blair was different. He smelled different. Your mother’s stench was all over him. He told me he was in love and getting married. That he had bonded with your witch of a mother. It was over. He was bonded with another. He had to die. But one good thing did come out of that tragedy. You Blair. If only I had known about your existence, I would have raised you as my own. But fate is a strange mistress, now I see she has saved you for me. Did you ever wonder why Jim Ellison never bonded with you? It was because he knew in his heart that you were not his to have. I forgive you for thinking he was your own. Of course a Guide, a teacher like you would want to take care of a struggling Sentinel. But now the truth is out. It was never your father that was my Guide. It was you! You were born to be mine. honeysuckle.” 

Blair swallowed the lump in his throat. There was so much going on in his mind, he wanted to scream. Revelation after revelation shook the foundations of his life. But he couldn’t face that right now, he had to get away. The door snicked behind him. He turned, opened the door and ran into the underground labyrinth.

Reach out to me for satisfaction, yeah

Look, call my name now for quick reaction

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

Former Captain James Ellison, Special Ops, stormed his way into the NSA at Fort Gordon. Or rather, waved a top clearance pass from his old commanding officer, General Taylor, in the face of everyone who tried to stop him. At last he reached the field agents offices. The dignified gray-haired receptionist was not impressed by Jim’s Rambo routine.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Agent Hill and Morris have left orders not to be disturbed.” Jim listened through the door. Hill was talking about a situation being out of control. Jim raised his voice so that it could be heard in the closed office. “I don’t care if Agent Hill and Morris are jacking each other off in there. I need to see them. Now. Announce me or I walk in. Your choice.”

The door to the office opened and Hill stepped out. “Detective Ellison. Please come right in, Sir. I must say we’ve been expecting you.”

Jim glared at the receptionist who didn’t bat an eye.

Jim entered the office but didn’t let either agent talk. “Where is my partner? Where is Blair Sandburg?”

Hill walked behind his desk and sat down. “Detective Ellison. I know exactly where Mister Sandburg is, but I’m going to need your help extracting him from his current situation. Please sit down. Agent Morris and myself are actually very glad to have you here.”

“What the hell is going on? Where is Blair?”

“Detective Ellison, I can see you are full of concern for the welfare of your partner, as I assure you, Sir, so are we. To come right down to the heart of the matter, we know you are a Sentinel and we know Blair is your Guide. Blair has been abducted by another Sentinel such as yourself. A Sentinel we thought was helping us for altruistic reasons. We have no reason to believe the Sentinel in question will hurt your Guide, but of course we want to rectify the problem as soon as possible. Please sit down, Detective. We are not the enemy.”

Jim sat and clenched the sides of the chair. “Tell me everything.”

Hill came around to the side of his desk and sat on the edge. He was close enough to touch Jim, but he folded his arms. Hill looked at Morris who nodded as if to say he had his partner’s back.

“Do you know about Blair’s heritage here in Georgia?”

Jim answered tersely. “Yes. His mother informed me. I have no reason not to believe her.”

Hill nodded and continued. “A man by the name of Silas Martin approached NSA three years ago. He told us a tale of going to the Burton Academy as a lad. He explained to us about Sentinels, demonstrated his own abilities and offered us an opportunity to reopen the academy. He told us that he was an old family friend of the Burton’s. That Blair Burton had been his childhood companion and that after his tragic death, he told us that he and Richard Burton, developed a close relationship, Silas taking the place of the old man Burton’s lost grandson. He said that the elderly Burton had meant to leave his fortune to Silas Martin in order to keep the school running. But the hand written will Silas produced, didn’t hold up in court. After that, Silas told us he went to work in Paris in the perfume industry and had recently retired.”

“Hill, get on with it. The longer you take with this story. The longer it’s going to take for me to get my partner back.”

“I’m getting there. Now, as I was saying, We looked into the matter and found that Burton did indeed have an heir. Blair Sandburg was to inherit at age thirty. We did not share this information with Silas Martin. But we did ask him to help us start that school for Sentinels using Bunker Thirteen. But we decided to only allow Sentinels between the ages of eighteen and twenty-one to be admitted. More of a College for Sentinels if you will. Agent Morris and I oversee security and recruitment of students. Families are well informed, and the young Sentinels spend vacations at home if they wish to. We set up a well-rounded curriculum and brought in professors from across the country. There was one major flaw in our plan. We ignored and underestimated the value of a Guide. Our students began to get ill about two months ago. Doctors were baffled. Now all twelve of those gifted young people are in the hospital in different stages of declining health. Agent Morris here was the one who found Blair Sandburg. When he came out at his press conference Morris figured out he was a Guide desperate to protect his partner and Sentinel. We arranged to bring him in. But he didn’t have clearance so…”

“So you had to scare him to death, drug him and drag him here against his will.” Jim ran a hand across his face and leaned forward. “Okay. So you needed Blair to help these students. I know him, he would never turn his back on sick Sentinels, especially if they were also students. So where is he being held? At the hospital? Is it one of the sick kids? What aren’t you telling me? You’re good, Hill. Morris is better, but your heartbeats can’t lie.”

Hill stood and began to pace. “We told Silas Martin about bringing in a Guide. We told him about Blair’s heritage, thinking he’d be thrilled that we found his old friend’s son. And he was. He put on a great show. Until he stole Blair from the hospital and locked down Bunker Thirteen with Blair and him inside. He shut down communications and enabled the security protocols, locking the bunker down tighter than a banjo string. That bunker has enough supplies for someone to live there for at least ten years. We think he is claiming young Blair as his Guide. We ran a more thorough check and began to suspect that Silas Martin murdered Doctor Burton and his grandfather. He’s unstable. He spent over twenty years in a psychiatric hospital in Atlanta. He was finally released when the hospital closed its doors. Silas slipped through the cracks during the reorganization and took himself to Paris.”

“What the hell? You didn’t check him out? How did he get clearance?”

Hill looked uncomfortable and played with the knot in his tie. “I’m afraid we only made a cursory background check. We were more interested in his abilities and the fact that there were more Sentinels out there. We did try to keep him on a tight leash.”

Jim jumped up and grabbed Hill by the lapels of his grey suit. “You’re telling me a homicidal maniac with Sentinel abilities has Blair holed up in a impenetrable underground fortress? Are you fucking kidding me?”

Morris placed a gentle hand on Jim’s shoulders and spoke in a deep, calming baritone. “Yes, that is the situation, Sentinel Ellison. And we need you to get him out.”

~~0~~

Now don't you ever be sad

Lean on me when times get bad

When the day comes, I know you're down

In a river of trouble, you about to drown

So hold on, I'm comin'

Hold on, I'm comin'

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

Jim was still reeling from the fact that there was a group of Sentinels just a few miles away from him. He thought of his tense and manic behavior when Alex was with Blair, but now, he just felt mightily pissed off. The NSA clowns had no idea what they were doing. But at least they seemed to be sincere in wanting to help Sentinels. So far, there was no mention of enhanced super soldiers taking over the world. So far, the sentinel school seemed only to be concerned with turning out well educated young people, who would choose for themselves how and where to use their abilities.

Jim couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened to him if he had been trained up by his own Guide’s great grandfather. If Doctor Burton had married Naomi, would Blair have been his since he was a child? Jim shook his head. He was glad he met Blair when he did. He was able to love him now and that’s the only thing that was important. That and actually telling Blair how he felt.

Agent Hugh Morris had turned out to be a sort of geeky fan of Sentinels. He had developed several, ‘toys,’ that Jim had no problem confiscating in the hopes they would help him bring his Guide safely home. If not for the dire circumstances and his guide being in danger, he would have enjoyed Morris and his quiet enthusiasm for all things Sentinel. Morris made Jim feel like he was, Agent Ellison, James Ellison to the NSA equivalent of Q.

The first toy was a safety helmet and goggle set up that could adjust to block out unwanted noise and light and scent. Along with the helmet came a specialized breathable fabric suit with tactile gloves that protected the Sentinel in hazardous situations, but still allowed them to use their sense of touch. Morris explained that the suits were also used for training games, they protected a Sentinel from outside biological forces but because of an optional point specific white noise generator, it also concealed them from other Sentinels. Jim was impressed. 

Jim was most impressed with Morris’ weaponry. A modernized blow gun with an assortment of darts and a prototype of a miniaturized plasma railgun, that silently fired a pulse of plasmic energy. It was the equivalent of a flashing a lightning bolt at an unsuspecting Sentinel and would knock them out for several hours.

Jim formulated his plan for extracting Blair from the Bunker Thirteen with Hill and Morris. Surprisingly, Jim found he trusted them to have his back, he could sense their main concern were the young people under their protection. They wanted Blair back almost as much as Jim did.

Hold on 'cause I'm comin'

I want you to hold on 'cause I'm comin', yeah


	6. Let's Stay Together

Oh, baby, let's, let's stay together

Loving you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, happy or sad

~~0~~

Blair couldn’t get his bearings. He stopped just a moment in the long hall and opened the door on his right slipping in. The lights were on in this bedroom too, giving the whole building a sense of twilight. Blair had no idea what time it truly was. The thought made him feel disoriented,

_Why aren’t there any windows in these rooms? Where the hell am I? I feel like I’m in a tomb for a CPO of a major corporation. Instead of a mummy’s sarcophagus, we’ve got tastefully decorated bedroom suites. Tomb. I’m underground. That’s why the lighting is off. Artificial daylight, fading into night. Creepy. I need to go up. Find some stairs._

Blair carefully opened the door and peered both ways down the hall. Silas Martin was not as quick on his feet as Blair, but he was a Sentinel.

_Oh, man. How is this my life? One crazed Sentinel after another? Well. Jim isn’t crazed. But he makes me crazy. I did ask for it. I had to become an expert on Sentinels. Who am I kidding. I was destined to be someone’s Guide. I guess I'm not even surprised that my father was a Guide. I wonder if what Silas said was true? Did he murder my father and the only family I had? If it is true why didn't Naomi tell me? If it's true I'm like totally pissed at mom. She knew I was searching for a Sentinel. She knew all along I’d never would have given up searching. I am amazed I'm related to Richard Burton, but somehow, not really. That book called to me. Even I thought I was nuts. I guess karma knows what she's doing after all. Just my luck I had to fall in love with the one Sentinel I did find. Did Naomi tell Jim? Did she know all along Jim was a Sentinel? Oh, man! She must have known what she was doing when she sent in my thesis. No! No! Too many lies to have to sort out. My life is one big fucking mess. I can't think about all that now. I have to keep moving. Staying ahead of this guy and getting out of this hole is my only chance._

Blair crept down the hall, looking for a fire exit sign or a door that could be the stairs. He turned the corner, found another gray metal door and was surprised to find that it opened into a lobby with elevators and more metal doors that looked like it might be the staircase to the surface in the far corner. It reminded him of a modern designed motel with tastefully neutral furniture groupings, rather than the lair of a madman.

_What is this place? What’s it for? It’s so disturbing being underground. Oh, Gods! What if there is nothing up there? What if they finally dropped the bomb? Are the people I care about dead? Jim, dead? Get a grip, Sandburg. That psycho Sentinel probably lives here. Makes sense that he’d want to block out light and sound. Careful. One freak-out at a time._

Blair placed a hand on the lobby reception counter and began to creep along heading for the metal doors and potential freedom. 

_I’ve got to be quiet. I wonder if old Silas is as sensitive to my heartbeat as Jim is? Silas seems to have extremely enhanced sense of smell, but maybe his other senses are not so acute. Uggg, so gross, man. All that sniffing creeps me out. Should I try the elevator? Trapped in an elevator underground with a Sentinel looney on my ass? I don’t think so. Okay. So far so good._

Blair reached the double, fireproof doors and opened one. He sighed in relief when he saw the metal staircase going up. He turned to close and perhaps lock the door when he met resistance.

“Oh, shit! No!” Blair tried to pull the door closed, but in his weakened state he lacked his usual determined strength. He looked around desperately for something to jam against the door, but lost his balance and fell back as Silas Martin pushed through. Blair twisted and tripped on the bottom riser. Blair scrambled away, trying to regain his footing.

“Now, honeysuckle, I understand your confusion,” Silas called after him, “you’ve only just met me. You need to let your Guide instincts come to the fore.” Silas slowly walked up the stairs. He reached around to his back pocket. “You’ve been searching so long for me, darlin’. You just haven’t realized it yet. Come on back here, and I’ll take you to my apartment and make you comfortable, cook you something fillin’ to eat. You must be famished. Come on. Where you think you’re going, anyhow? You can’t escape a Sentinel.” 

Blair ignored the lunatic and the drug induced headache hammering at his skull. He hung onto the handrail and tried to advance up the never-ending staircase. 

Silas took aim with the blow gun he had acquired from Agent Morris after the last round of Sentinel training games. He had also acquired some of the special darts Morris used that were safe and harmless. Silas had modified the darts for his own use. They were not harmless anymore. He placed a dart in the gun and waited for Blair to come into view several floors above him. He smiled as he took aim. The enhanced projectile hissed quietly through the air and pierced Blair’s neck. Blair felt the sting, and instinctively let go of the rail to check his neck. He turned to glare at Silas, lost his balance, and tumbled down the stairs. Blair landed at Silas’ feet, unconscious, a gash above his eye already flowing with blood.

~~0~~

I'm, I'm so in love with you

Whatever you want to do

Is alright with me

'Cause you make me feel so brand new

And I want to spend my life with you

“This was one hell of a field test, Morris.” Jim whispered into his com unit.

Jim fussed with the tactical communications function of his helmet. He appreciated the multi functional helmet that basically gave him increased control over his senses and protected him from zone-outs. It also made him a Sentinel ninja who theoretically could sneak up on another Sentinel and take them down. Jim enjoyed the freedom of his skin-tight, one piece suit, even if it did make him feel like a cartoon hero. The porous, tactile, black material made him nearly invisible, his movements as stealthy and sleek as his own spirit panther. Jim readjusted the plasma railgun on his tac belt. Jim and the agents had agreed that Jim would stun or knock out Silas Martin and not use deadly force. NSA wanted him alive. Jim reluctantly agreed to leave his own gun behind, but knew that if Silas had hurt Blair all bets were off. He suspected Agents Hill and Morris knew that too and that was the real reason they confiscated his gun.

Jim whispered into his com unit, more to himself than the agents on guard.

//This is one hell of a field test, Morris. The suit’s good, but Sandburg is better. Oh, dammit. Just what I didn’t need.// 

Hill and Morris were staked out in a NSA van, ready for anything. Jim had been dropped off one and a half miles from Bunker Thirteen, Jim having deemed that was an adequate distance to avoid Silas hearing them. Jim was making his way on foot to the compound. 

//Something wrong, Ellison?//

Hill’s hushed voice came over the com and Jim shook his head at how loud it sounded to him. He adjusted the headset to its lowest volume and replied.

//No. Just a song stuck in my head. Sandburg calls it an extreme earworm. When I get them, I can hear every note, every instrument, just like I’m listening to a radio with the volume turned up. It’s annoying. I can see the fence. ETA five minutes.//

//Roger that, Ellison. I must say you Sentinels do have unusual problems. At your word we’ll turn off the power in this part of the grid. I hope none of the neighbors are having a movie night.//

//What neighbors, Hill?//

Jim looked around at the pristine forest surrounding the underground fortress. If Blair had been bouncing beside him, safe and happy, he would have found it peaceful, fragrant and beautiful. Blair always made Jim’s senses hum with the simple joys of living. He missed his Guide terribly. Not just because Blair enriched his Sentinel senses, but because he was in love, and Blair’s absence weighed heavily on his heart. 

Jim reached the fence with its electronic gate lock and glaring floodlights. The building had its own self contained mini power plant, but the security was linked to the above ground, normal power grid and the NSA security systems. Jim gave Hill the go-ahead to turn off the power. He knew it would take Hill and Morris between seven and ten minutes to accomplish the deed from the computer in the van. Hopefully Silas Martin wouldn’t notice the outer defenses were down until it was too late. Jim’s earworm grew louder as he waited.

Blair loved Al Green and played the eight track in Jim’s truck over and over, Jim could not only duplicate the song perfectly in his mind, with every horn blast as clear as day, but he could recall Blair singing along with his ridiculous Al Green impression. 

Let me say that since, baby

Since we've been together

Loving you forever

Is what I need

Let me be the one you come running to

I'll never be untrue

Oh, baby, let's, let's stay together

Loving you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, happy or sad

It suddenly struck Jim that the vintage R&B song had taken on a new meaning. Blair had sung this tune to him, while he drove his Guide around and took delight in his antics. Jim never realized it was a plea. Blair had always been insecure about his place in Jim’s life and with good cause. Jim had dangled a home, comfort, security and love right in Blair’s face. But Blair knew it could be taken away at any time by the whims and emotions of his skittish Sentinel.

Whether times are good or bad, happy or sad

Why, somebody, why people break-up

Oh, turn around and make-up

I just can't see

You'd never do that to me

Would you, baby?

Just being around you is all I see

Jim examined the lyrics like he never had before. Was Blair singing about his own desires? Did he want to stay with Jim. Were they truly in love? Jim closed his eyes and recalled a real memory of Blair beside him in the truck, singing and swaying to, Let’s Stay Together. Jim could hear Blair’s deep sexy voice. He could see the twinkle in his blue eyes and the longing hidden behind the smile. Jim opened his eyes.

//Ellison, you are a fucking idiot, wasting so much precious time stuck in your own fucking head games while Blair ached for a real partner and a real home. Hold on, Chief. Please hold on.//

Here's what I want us to do

Let's, we ought to stay together

Loving you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, happy or sad

Jim’s headset chirped and Hill spoke. //We didn't copy that, Ellison.//

//Doesn't matter. How long?//

//Well, then, alright. One minute till lights out, Ellison. Good luck.//

//Thanks, Hill. I’ll be back with Sandburg or not at all.//

~~0~~

Oh, baby, let's, let's stay together

Loving you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, happy or sad

~~0~~

Silas carried Blair to his apartment on the second level. He arranged Blair on his bed and cleaned his head wound, taking off his blood soiled black pajama top, but leaving the bottoms. Silas checked Blair over for injuries.

“My, my, my, honeysuckle. You have black and blues on your black and blues. I think you might have a broken rib or two. Well, we’ll just have to be more careful, until you learn your place. Silas went into his closet and came out with a gaudy tie. He lifted Blair up a bit with several pillows then tied Blairs wrists to the headboard knotting them as tight as possible. This was no game to Silas, he wanted Blair where he could enjoy him and teach him to be his Guide.

“Blair. Blair wake up now. I gave you drugs to make you pliable and open to suggestion, not make you comatose. Luckily they should ease your pain also. You need to wake up now, hear?”

 

Silas tapped repeatedly on Blair’s cheek. Blair began to moan and writhe on the bed. “That’s right, honeysuckle. Open those pretty blues.”

Blair opened his eyes and frowned at the awful feeling of being awake. He felt strange, it was hard to focus. He licked his lips and his tongue was heavy. He tried to move but vague pains assaulted him. His arms were so numb he couldn’t move them. He tried to remember what had happened, but the last thing he remembered was singing in Jim’s truck to the Al Green tape. And that seemed so long ago.

“Wha’? Where? Jim?”

Silas shook his head and tutted. “You always call for Jim, but he’s never there is he, darlin’?”

“Where’s Jim? I need him. He’ll tell me wha’ to do.”

“Now that is precisely what I’m goin’ to do. I’m Silas Martin, Blair. I‘m your new Sentinel. Jim gave you to me. He didn’t want you, but I wanted you. Oh, so much, darlin’ boy.” Silas leaned over and kissed Blair’s lips eliciting a confused groan from Blair. Blair shook his head and Silas took hold of his mass of hair to keep him in place. Silas reluctantly pulled away.

“Stop, angel. You’ll hurt yourself worse.”

“Jim would never give me away. He…”

“He what? Loves you? He was glad to be rid of you, eager to forget you and move on. He’s a Sentinel like me and he gave you away. You belong to me now. That's how it is with Sentinels and their Guides, honeysuckle, and I’m goin’ to treat you nice. I do love you, Blair. I’m not afraid to say it. I want to bond with you. You are mine.”

In Blair’s drugged and confused mind, it all made sense. He was a Guide and his Sentinel had no use for him. That seemed to be the truth. Jim gave him to another Sentinel. This was his destiny. But why did he feel so sad?

“Why didn’t Jim want me, Sentinel?”

“Well, Blair. You gave away his secret didn’t you? You were not a good Guide for Jim. Not what he wanted or needed. You got in trouble, and caused him trouble. And he couldn’t love you. You were a very bad Guide. But that’s okay, because you were meant to be mine.”

Blair sniffed back tears, believing everything Silas said. “I... I didn't know about Guides. Didn't know my father. Naomi never told me. You… you’ll teach me to be a good Guide, Sentinel?”

“Oh, yes, honeysuckle. I surely will.”

Silas became lost in the scent and feel of Blair. He began to lick the skin and inhale the strong scent behind Blair’s ear. Blair turned away, inadvertently giving Silas more access, as silent tears ran down his cheeks.

~~0~~

Once inside the cement block building, it only took Jim a few moments to find the guard’s station and undo the lockdown, silencing alarms and opening electronically locked doors. Jim fervently hoped that Blair was talking non-stop to distract the Sentinel from hearing the snicks of the locking mechanisms. He fervently hoped that Blair was fit enough to distract the Sentinel.

Jim crept into the stairwell and began his laborious journey walking silently down to the lower levels. He froze when he heard a beloved voice.

"Where’s Jim? I need him. He’ll tell me wha’ to do."

Blair’s voice sounded weak and his words slurred. Jim’s inner panther screamed at the sound of his Guide in distress. His mind shut down allowing only one thought. Save the Guide. Jim moved with the grace and stealth of a jungle cat. His blood racing at the sounds of the lies being told to his Guide. The pain inflicted on his Guide. He smelled his Guide’s salty, sweet tears as he prowled the halls silently. Finally he stood before the door separated him from his Guide. Jim isolated the two heartbeats and knew the other Sentinel was too close to his Guide to fire his weapon safely. Jim readied his plasma gun. He raised a flat hand and banged once on the wall. He stepped aside and waited for the door to open.

When Silas Martin opened the door to see what had made the noise his world exploded into flashing lights and pain. He crumpled to the floor. Jim walked over his prone body, knowing he was still alive but caring only for the frantic heartbeat inside the apartment.

~~0~~

Blair saw the flash of the lightning strike. He wondered how a storm was raging in the hall. Maybe they were on a ship? He tried to look but moving his arms was still impossible. He caught his breath as a black figure appeared in the doorway. The figure stepped into the room. It was Jim’s black panther taking human form. Blair screamed.

“Nooooo! Nooooooo! Go away, Death! Jim doesn’t want me, but I don't want to die again! You can’t take me to back to the blue jungle. I won’t go! I won’t!”

The panther figure came closer and removed its helmet. Blair shut his eyes tightly and pulled at his restraints, making the head board of the bed rattle. Blair thought he heard Jim’s voice. He felt gentle phantom hands smooth his hair.

“Chief, Chief! It’s okay. Jim’s here, Blair. Calm down, Chief. You can open your eyes. You won’t see anything that will scare you. Only your Sentinel.”

Blair’s breath came in frightened gasps as he managed to open his eyes.

“Chief, slow down your breathing. You’re gonna pass out. Take it slow, babe. Do you see? It’s me. Jim. I’m not Death, I'm just dressed like this because I had to sneak in here to rescue you. You’ve been kidnapped and drugged, that’s why everything is confusing for you. You let me think for both of us. I’ll take care of you. Just relax.” Jim struggled with the knots binding Blair’s wrists, but managed to get them undone. He cautiously lowered Blair’s arms to his sides and rubbed the circulation back into them. He took Blair’s hands in his and tried to sooth his raw looking wrists. Blair looked on with a puzzled frown as if he were watching a complicated magic trick.

“Jim?”

“Yeah, babe?” Jim was now cataloging Blair’s injuries, ghosting his hands over tender ribs and bruises. Worrying over the cut on Blair’s head. Jim moved a finger over the injection site on Blair’s neck. Wondering what Silas Martin had given his Guide and if Blair was in any danger from the drugs.

“You… you gave me away… to another Sentinel? I… I was a… bad Guide?”

Jim cringed at the lost little boy sound of Blair's questions. He curtailed his anger at Martin and tried to regulate his voice so that it was calm and soothing for his Guide. “No, Chief. I would never give you away and you are my perfect Guide. I love you and I want you to stay with me forever. Silas lied to you, and stole you away from me because he wanted you. That’s how wonderful you are. Everyone wants you. But I’m the lucky man who gets to be with you.”

Blair’s impossibly big eyes filled with tears. “You love me? I love you too. I thought you wanted me to leave. I thought we were done. I… Jim I don’t remember what happened to me. Silas said… are you sure I still belong to you?” Jim gathered Blair into his arms and pressed Blair’s head against his shoulder. He rocked him ever so slowly. 

“Yeah. I’m sure. You belong to me and I belong to you. Hush, now, babe. It’s alright. I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling more yourself. Hey! I’ve got a mother of all earworms playing in my head. You always said singing the tune would pull it out. You want to hear?”

Blair chuckled through his tears, making Jim’s heart squish in his chest. “Panther Jim is going to sing to me? Are you really for real, man?”

Jim kissed Blair’s forehead. “This is as real as it gets, babe.” Jim tuned into his earworm and began to sing strongly, if a little off key.

Let me say that since, baby

Since we've been together

Loving you forever

Is what I need

Let me be the one you come running to

I'll never be untrue

Oh, baby, let's, let's stay together

Loving you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, happy or sad

Agent Hill and Morris exchanged a smile as they peeked in on Jim and Blair before calling for a NSA cleanup crew and ambulance. 

~~0~~

Agent Hugh Morris walked down the hall towards Blair’s hospital room with a hot cup of coffee in hand. Jim had changed back into his fatigues and was sitting half-way on the bed with a protective arm around Blair. Blair was playing with his food. Jim was about to take Blair’s fork away and feed him like a recalcitrant one year old, when he smelled coffee, real coffee not hospital coffee. Jim looked up expectantly when Agent Morris entered.

Jim smiled at the awkward agent. “That coffee for me, Q?”

“That’s an affirmative, Sentinel Ellison. Georgia’s finest.” He handed Jim the coffee with a nod Blair’s way. “How’s Sandburg?”

Blair peeked around Jim’s arm. “Hi, Hugh.” Blair wiggled his right arm and waved. “They took out the IV and gave me dinner. It’s disgusting. Jim won’t buy me take out food because he’s afraid to let me out of his sight. I’m not afraid of you anymore, Hugh, because Jim said you were geeky like me and dressed him up like Panther Jim. I really like that black suit. I want Jim to wear it at home when we make out, because Jim and I are in love now. We’re going to have a relationship! Jim doesn’t want to rush things because I’m recovering and he says I’m not in my right mind. But I know he’s hot in that suit. You don’t have to be in your right mind to see that!”

Jim grabbed the orange jello and a spoon and stuffed Blair’s mouth full to stop his motormouth from running. Jim sighed and turned NSA Agent who was blinking owlishly.

“Q, Blair has lost all his filters. The drug Silas used was similar to sodium pentothal, truth serum, but more complex and powerful. You could tell Blair anything right now and he’d believe you. His emotions are off the scale too. We tried to watch TV earlier and a commercial for the ASPCA had him bawling and wanting to go to the shelter to adopt a puppy.”

Blair swallowed his jello in one gulp. He looked up at Jim with tear filled eyes. “No, Jim. Not a puppy. Everyone loves puppies. I want a rescue dog that some heartless bastard abandoned. Everybody needs a home, Jim.”

That remark cut too close to the heart for Jim. He hugged Blair and played with his curls. “Don’t cry again, Chief. You’ll make your headache worse. You know now you always have a home with me and maybe when we get back to Cascade we’ll visit the dog pound and get you the most pathetic pup there for your very own. Okay, babe? No more tears?” Blair nodded and hid his face in Jim’s chest. Small hiccups moved Blair’s chest and Jim rubbed gently over the bandages covering Blair’s ribs.

“See, Q? My little drama llama is having a rough time of it. He also has a concussion, multiple bruised ribs, one that’s broken, we have to watch for pneumonia, and the doctor was concerned about his wrists. Blair can’t tell us yet, if they bother him. The drugs are keeping him pain free for now. I have to keep an eye on him or I'm afraid he’ll wander off.”

Blair lifted his head and smiled brightly. Both tough men smiled back. Blair addressed Agent Morris. “I hear the call of The Sentinels. I am a Guide. They need me. I should go, will you take me?”

Jim moved Blair’s chin with his hand until Blair was looking at him. “Blair. We talked about this. No wandering away. You are in the hospital for a reason. I’m your Sentinel. Silas Martin was wrong. I love you and you need to stay with me. Remember? Let’s stay together? Now lay back down. You shouldn’t be moving around so much with that broken rib. If you settle in, like a good llama, I’ll ask Q to get you some take out. Now you rest and think about what you might like.”

Blair stretched out, happily contemplating what he wanted to eat. Thoughts of Sentinels pushed from his brain by Jim’s subtle commands.

Jim got up and Morris joined him in the hall where Jim could still see Blair through the open door. “Thanks for the coffee, Q. Would you mind doing a food run for us? Blair is not on a restricted diet. The Doc said any kind of food and lots of water would only help get the drugs out of his system.”

“No problem, Sentinel Ellison. Will Sandburg’s memories return?”

“We don’t know. Right now he doesn’t remember anything since a few days before the press conference. I can’t explain anything to him either, because he’s too emotional. We have to just wait and see. I can’t leave him alone, the Doc said he might not sleep until he crashes some time tomorrow. If you or Hill could stay with him while I take a nap in the lounge later, I’d appreciate it. But I only trust you two, no one else.”

“Anything we can do to help. I’ll get us all dinner as soon as Sandburg decides what he would like. Foster… Hill is overlooking Silas Martin’s admittance into the psych wing. You know, Ellison, those sick Sentinels are in this hospital. Some of the families and all of the other teachers at the school are here too, taking turns sitting with the students. We hoped to offer them some hope. Do you think Blair’s really hearing their call?”

Jim frowned as he watched Blair talking to himself about the merits of pizza verses Chinese food. “I guess he could be hearing them. Stranger things have happened to us. But no way is he getting near a Sentinel until the drugs are out of his system and he can make a coherent choice.”

“My Sentinel?” Blair called, “Can I have pizza and Chinese food?”

~~0~~

The remains of dinner had been cleared away and Blair was watching a DVD overloaded with an assortment old fashioned cartoons. Guaranteed not to set off any waterworks. It was late at night. The nurses had taken pity on Jim and allowed him access to a shower and an empty bed right across the hall. Morris had brought NSA sweat suits for Blair and Jim along with a bounty of food choices for Blair. Jim made Morris promise to wake him if Blair so much as frowned when Road Runner foiled Coyote yet again.

Hugh Morris was more than willing to watch cartoons with Blair, both of them chuckling at Popeye’s awful puns and reminiscing about Saturday mornings favorites. The double DVD borrowed from the pediatric wing, could run as background noise for up to twelve hours. Morris finally dozed about two am.

Blair switched off the TV, so Morris could sleep. He knew Jim was across the hall so he got out of bed. Blair crept up to Jim and gave him a sweet kiss. “I love you, Jim. No need to wake up, my Sentinel. Sleep in peace,” Blair whispered in his silky smooth Guide voice. Jim was so exhausted he only smiled and pulled up his covers. 

“I hear them, Jim. I have to go.”

Blair shook his head to clear away the cobwebs and fear. He got on the elevator and closed his eyes listening for the calls. “Up. Four, I think.”

Blair got off at the fourth floor and followed the loudest call to a room where a teenage boy was hooked up to monitors and IV’s. The boy’s eyes were open and he looked straight at the ceiling. But Blair could hear his voice clearly. It sounded despondent and lost. There were no actual words but Blair’s spirit supplied them. “Help me, Guide. Come to me, I need your strength and your wisdom. I have lost my way.”

Blair recognized a deep zone and smiled. He knew what to do to save the boy. Blair cupped the boy’s face in his hands and gently stroked his cheeks with his fingers giving the Sentinel something to feel. He got close enough so the boy could smell his scent. Blair began to talk calling the young sentinel back from the zone. It didn’t take long for the boy to blink and return to awareness.

The Sentinel took a deep breath. “Are… are you an angel?”

Blair kissed the boy’s forehead. “No, just a Guide.”

Blair walked out in search of the next Sentinel, a girl this time, who woke up quickly and was very concerned about her friends. Blair assured her, he would wake everyone up. The third Sentinel was a bit harder to wake and Blair was feeling very drained. The boy hugged him a long time, doing the classic sniffing and touching his hair thing. Blair allowed it until the boy was calm and settled into a healing sleep. When he pulled away from number three, he was beginning to feel his injuries. After Sentinel four, he had to find a bathroom and tossed his dinner when his concussion made itself known. 

Blair’s spirit wolf appeared after number five, supporting him and giving him strength. Blair grasped his warm, wiry fur in his hand like a lifeline. 

The last young Sentinel, number twelve, was a sweet, selfless girl who cried grateful tears and immediately became worried about Blair’s condition. She locked onto her guardian angel’s heartbeat and worried that it was erratic. She offered to call a nurse. 

Blair assured her he was returning to his Sentinel who was sleeping on the second floor. His Sentinel who always took good care of him.

When Blair left the last Sentinel’s room he could barely walk. He leaned heavily on his wolf and let the spirit animal guide his way. Blair wrapped one arm around his ribs, but every step was excruciating. The wolf wandered into an empty room and jumped effortlessly into the bed. Blair used the wolf’s sturdy body to pull himself onto the cold, unmade bed.That movement took all the rest of his strength. He curled into the wolf and buried his head in his spirit wolf’s fur. Blair was in great pain and utterly exhausted. He felt sucked dry and too tired to care anymore. The wolf whimpered softly and licked Blair’s sore wrists.

Suddenly, all the memories of the last few days opened like a flashing strobe light in his brain. He curled up as best he could and began to sob shamelessly into his wolf’s neck. His mother had let him live a lie. His father was dead, his heritage taken from him. His academic career and his life in Cascade was in ruins. He had betrayed Jim’s trust and exposed him to the world, despite his efforts to fall on his sword for his Sentinel. He tried to piece together how Silas captured him and how he escaped, but those memories were still behind a misty shadow. His last thought before he succumbed to unconsciousness was whether he had imagined Jim singing to him.

~~0~~

“Agent Morris! I would have expected better of you. Wake up and smell your pissed off partner.”

Morris jumped to attention, looking frantically around the room. “Foster? Where is Blair?”

“That’s my question to you. It’s five in the morning. Do you know where our Guide is?”

Morris wiped a hand over his face. “I’m so sorry, Foster. I know he was here at midnight. He was watching TV and happy as a clam.”

Hill placed a kind hand on Morris’ shoulder. “And by three in the morning all our Sentinels woke up, telling tales of a sweet smelling, long-haired angel visiting them in the night and bringing them home.”

Morris lit up like Christmas morning. “Blair said he heard them calling to him. He must have gone ahead and heeded that call. Do you have him upstairs? Is he alright? Oh, God! If he’s hurt it’s my fault.”

Hill shook his head. “Now, now, it’s my fault too. I know you had been up existing on strong coffee and cat naps while getting Ellison’s toys ready. I shouldn’t have let you stand guard over Ellison’s little trouble magnet. You are only human after all. I forget that sometimes. Come on, Hugh. Let’s tell Ellison.”

Jim appeared in the doorway looking like he just jumped out of bed, which he had. “Tell me what? Where is Blair? Fuck! You lost him?”

Hill raised a hand to placate Jim. “Sentinel Ellison. It appears your Guide wandered up to the fourth floor early this morning and saved the lives of twelve young people. Now after a feat like that I doubt he went out on the town. Hold down the rage, please, and find his heartbeat.”

Jim took a deep breath and nodded agreement. He closed his eyes and concentrated, searching and discarding floor after floor of heartbeats. Third floor was filled with frantic tiny beats he could hardly hear. That puzzled him for a moment until he realized it was the maternity ward. Jim worked his way across the fourth floor and stopped. He found Blair’s heartbeat but it was weak. Jim’s eyes shot open and he was moving towards the elevators. “West end of the fourth floor. He's in trouble.”

Hill and Morris followed behind. “What a surprise,” Hill mumbled.

~~0~~

Jim wasted no time getting to the dark, empty room Blair had crashed in. Jim stopped a moment at the door examining his shivering Guide, curled up on the sterile bed. “Hill!” Jim called out, “Get me some blankets and get Blair’s doctor up here.”

Jim was at Blair’s side before Hill could answer him. Jim gently pulled Blair into his arms to warm him. He stroked his hair and spoke softly. “Chief? Chief, wake up.” Blair stirred and moaned, his arms slowly reaching around Jim’s chest where he fisted the fabric of his black tee.

“Jim. Hurts, Jim.”

“I know babe, I know. Help is coming. We’ll get you back your room and the Doc will take care of you. Just hang on to me.”

“Jim… I remember what happened. I was kidnapped. But nothing makes sense. You’re here. Did you rescue me from that crazy Sentinel?”

“Aw, Chief. So much has happened to you. You were drugged for most of it. Let’s hold all the explanations until you’re taken care of, okay? What you need to know is that you’re safe in a hospital in Georgia, Silas Martin is locked up and Agents Hill and Morris are actually on our side.”

Blair pulled back and hissed at the pain the movement caused. 

“Chief, no sudden movements. You have busted up ribs and a concussion.” Jim looked into Blair’s eyes. “At least the drugs are out of your system. What do you remember about the last few days?” Jim catalogued every injury as Blair talked. Blair had a slight fever and a rasp to his breathing. Jim was relieved to find Blair’s heartbeat was stronger than a few minutes ago, and he smiled to himself as he realized Blair’s heartbeat was now in sync with his own. Blair was drawing healing strength from his Sentinel and his Sentinel was overjoyed.

“I… dreams. Vivid dreams. I remember you… uh… sang to me, yeah, an Al Green song. Then I guess I must have been sleep walking. I dreamed there were sick Sentinels here. Young students. Sweet kids, all zoned out. I woke them up. Then my wolf spirit came to give me strength. He brought me here to this room and stayed with me.”

“Those weren't dreams, Chief.”

Blair rested his head on Jim’s chest wearily and closed his eyes. “You mean there really were sick Sentinels and I brought them out of their zones?”

“You sure did. They are all on this floor. You were their last hope. They were students in a sentinel school Hill is running here in Georgia, but they all succumbed to some strange illness.”

Blair shook his head, his voice instinctively taking on the deep rich tone that Sentinels seemed to respond to. “No, Jim. Not an illness. They zoned on something at that underground hell hole, probably something about the artificial environment. Air, water, light, power, something unnatural. They had no one to help them find their way back, Jim. Hill was an idiot to put Sentinels together like that without a Shaman or a watcher, a sort of universal guide, to take care of them.”

“Chief? How do you know these things?”

Blair opened his eyes and looked up at Jim. “I… I just do. Jim? Did you really sing to me? And… and say…”

“That wasn’t a dream either. Blair, I love you. I was an idiot and owe you several apologies, but I know I love you more than life itself. I sang to you to distract you and calm you down when you were scared, but I meant every word. Let me be the one you come running to. I want to spend my life with you, Chief.”

Jim reached down and kissed Blair gently on the lips. Blair pulled away slightly as his smile lit up the dark room. “Wow, man. This is incredible. I love you too, Jim... mmmm.”

Their first mind blowing kiss was interrupted when the lights came and Blair’s doctor rushed in followed by a swarm of nurses, technicians and NSA agents. Waiting just outside the door were worried young Sentinels, all wanting to help and to catch a glimpse of their savior. Jim used his sense of touch to manipulate his exhausted partner to a position where he could be examined with the least amount of pain. While the medical staff poked and prodded, Jim never let go of Blair’s hand. The bond between them had been established with their declarations of love, and Jim was sending all the good vibrations he could to his partner in all things. 

~~0~~

Jim had Blair’s signed medical release papers, aftercare instructions and prescriptions tucked away in his leather jacket. As he pushed a wheelchair towards Blair’s room, he smiled and nodded at the cluster of healthy young Sentinels who had been visiting their favorite Guide. 

Jim maneuvered the chair around the plentiful balloons, flowers and gifts that filled Blair’s room. Blair had spent five more days in the hospital after his heroic stunt. A course of antibiotics were needed to fight off a threatening hint of pneumonia in his lungs. Jim had been by his side, and witnessed the outpouring of gratitude from everyone involved with the Sentinel school.

Blair also had a visit from the Burton estate lawyer. Blair had turned thirty, three days after he was abducted. He was now an extremely wealthy man and the owner of a Victorian mansion located on Lake Burton in the northeast corner of Georgia.

Blair was sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed. He was wearing a new flannel shirt and jeans and was busy picking at threads on the shirt’s cuffs.

“Chief? You’re all set to leave. I’ve got lots of good news and no bad for a change. The team of engineers Hill sent to go over Bunker Thirteen found that the artificial lighting system was messed up. The kids were being bombarded with ultraviolet light frequencies without being aware of it. The zoning actually helped prevent lasting damage to their eyes or even worse their DNA. The NSA is looking for an above ground facility to use as a dorm and will limit the use of the bunker.”

“I’m glad, Jim. It will be more like a real college experience then.”

“Yeah. The students are all going home until the NSA goes over the bunker for repairs and testing and finds a suitable place to house the kids.”

“Home? Jim some of the kids don’t have a home. They’ve been on their own for a long time.”

Jim placed a hand on Blair’s shoulder. Jim could see something was definitely bothering his partner. “Don’t worry, Chief. Morris said the kids with families have all but adopted those without. They are a close knit group. No one is going to be alone. Not like when you and I were eighteen. We were searching for each other even then, me in the army and you in a library behind a stack of books. Imagine if there had been a school for us?”

Blair nodded, his hair curtaining his features. “I’m worried about the Guide aspect. There must be a way to find Guides. The school should be for both Sentinels and Guides.”

“I’m sure they’ll work it out now that you can consult with them. I have more good news, Chief. I’m coming out of the Sentinel closet. Simon already told the Chief and Commissioner. They can’t wait for you to join the force as my official partner. Kelso and your mom are ready to publish your books. Rainier is awarding you your doctorate, Blair. You don’t even have to defend it. Kelso said all you’ll have to do is show up and sign the papers. Hey, I bet your books will bring Sentinels and Guides out of the woodwork. Congratulations Doctor Sandburg.”

Blair looked a little shell shocked. He stood, still a little wobbly on his feet. Jim took his arm to steady him. “I’m not ready to talk to my mom, Jim. But I appreciate Jack’s work on my behalf. I can’t believe it all worked out. I can’t believe I’m a doctor.”

“Come on, Doc. Let’s go. Hill got us an executive suite at the Hilton near the airport in Augusta, or we could stay locally if you’re not up to a long car ride. Morris rented us a Hummer. I can’t wait to drive it. We have a lot to celebrate including a belated birthday. How about I take you out for surf and turf, tonight. Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?”

Blair looked up at Jim. tears brimming in his eyes. Jim hugged him close. “Tell me what’s wrong?”

“Jim… I… I can’t go back to Cascade. I can’t be your police partner any more. I can’t leave these students without a Guide. Jim, what am I going to do? I can’t lose you.”

“Hey, you are not going to lose me. Things are different now. We have a lot of options and a lot to discuss. Maybe it’s time for you to lead and me to follow. I’m not leaving you.”

“Jim, the lawyers told me that my father’s body was never exhumed from the contaminated lab. He’s buried beneath the red clay of Georgia. I want to visit him, place a memorial marker or something. I also want to visit the Burton estate. Jim, I think, if the Burton house is still habitable, you and I should reopen the Burton Academy. We can work alongside the NSA. Maybe we can recruit Simon and some of the others at MC. Jack too, and even my mother if I ever forgive her. I have a ton of money now, Jim. You can quit the force. I can take care of you. I'll build you a Sentinel safe home, and buy you anything else your little Sentinel heart desires. I can pay back all that overdue rent I owe you. And if you'll have me, I want to marry you."

Jim kissed his partner as the bond sang a new song between them. 

“Yes, Blair. Yes, I’ll run the school with you. Yes, I’ll marry you. As long as we’re together, anything you want to do is alright with me.” 

Here's what I want us to do

Let's, we ought to stay together

Loving you whether, whether

Times are good or bad, happy or sad

The End


End file.
